THE  WORST  FOE 


HORACE  STRONG 


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THE 


WORST  FOE, 


TEMPERANCE  STORY, 


BY 


GRACE  STRONG. 


(THIRTEENTH  EDITION.) 


THE    MONARCH    BOOK    CO., 

CHICAGO,    ILL.  STOCKTON,    CAL.  PHILADELPHIA,    PA. 

1892. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1885, 

By  WM.  G.  HUBBARD, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


DEDICATION. 


To  my  mother,  who  taught  my  infant  feet  to 
walk,  who  directed  my  lisping  accents  aright,  who 
carefully  guarded  me  through  helplessness  until  I 
reached  the  age  of  accountability,  and  who  has  ever 
since  been  my  best  companion  and  counsellor,  whose 
tender  encouragement  nerved  me  for  this  effort,  this 

book  is  affectionately  dedicated. 

AUTHOR. 


1782146 


Yours  in  faith  and  prayer, 

GRACE    STRONG. 


THE  WORST  FOE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE     DENESMORES. 

«'  A  soul  as  full  of  worth,  as  void  of  pride, 
Which  nothing  seeks  to  show,  or  needs  to  hide." 

—Popt. 

"  Woman  !  experience  might  have  told  me 
That  all  must  love  thee  who  behold  thee." 

— Byron* 

TITHE  Denesmore  place  stands  in  the  suburbs 
<*•  of  the  thriving  town  of  Staunton.  To  its 
natural  loveliness  the  decorative  hand  of  art  has 
added  many  charms. 

The  grand  old  house,  old  enough  to  be  ven- 
erable, yet  showing  no  signs  of  decay,  nestles  in 
the  bosom  of  a  magnificent  grove  of  trees.  A 
few  acres  in  the  rear  of  the  house — all  that  are 
left  of  a  once  large  farm — are  carefully  cultivated. 
The  town,  rapidly  growing  to  a  city,  encroaches 
more  and  more  upon  the  Denesmore  homestead, 
threatening  the  ultimate  destruction  of  its  groves 
and  meadows. 

In  one  corner  of  the  pasture  grazes  a  group 
of  soft-eyed  Jerseys.  Hives  of  bees  are  placed 


6  THE  WORST  FOE. 

near  the  beautiful  flower-garden,  and  their  busy 
hum  the  long  summer  day  through,  lulls  one  to 
repose.  At  the  bottom  of  a  hill  to  which  a  foot- 
path leads,  is  a  bubbling  spring  whose  sparkling 
waters  supply  the  needs  of  the  family.  A  superb 
English  mastiff  eyes  with  dignified  glance  the 
casual  visitor,  and  announces  his  coming  by  a 
bark  which  has  in  it  as  much  of  friendliness  a3 
anger. 

John  Denesmore  has  for  twenty-five  years  oc- 
cupied this  coveted  home.  Here  he  and  his  wife 
began  their  married  life  together.  Here  their 
children  were  born  and  grew  to  maturity.  He 
had  seen  the  little  village  grow  to  a  thriving 
town,  approaching  nearer  and  nearer  to  hi? 
home,  devouring  bit  by  bit  his  once  extensive 
farm,  converting  his  field  lots  into  town  lots 
and  streets,  greatly  enhancing  the  value  of  the 
land  and  increasing  Mr.  Denesmore's  wealth. 
Where  once  grew  fields  of  waving  corn  were 
now  tall  brick  houses.  To-day,  as  we  look 
either  way  up  or  down  the  long  avenue,  we  see 
^leasant  and  attractive  homes  of  a  prosperous 
people.  Some  say  that  nature  unadorned  is 
more  lovely  than  when  man  has  added  his 
improvements,  but  such  is  not  our  theory. 
Man's  intelligence,  co-operating  with  nature, 
can  make  what  was  once  beautiful, more  beauti- 
ful still.  Nature  is  thus  guided  and  aided  by 
human  intelligence,  and  the  rugged  grandeur 


THE   WORST    FOE.  7 

softened  and  made  more   pleasing  to  the  eye. 

The  square  stone  mansion,  with  bay  windows  • 
above  and  below,  on  either  side,  speaks  of 
wealth,  elegance  and  ease,  yet  so  plain  and 
home-like  as  to  preclude  the  idea  of  aristocracy. 
The  lawn  in  front  reaches  down  to  the  street, 
which  extends  south,  and  east  of  the  house  is 
the  shady  grove,  where  the  cows  can  find  shelter 
in  the  heat  of  the  day.  Below  the  hill  is  the 
crystal  brook,  fed  by  the  spring  we  have  men- 
tioned. Four  little  feet  have  often  paddled  in 
its  crystal  waters  in  the  days  gone  by,  only  giv- 
ing up  the  pleasure  when  age  and  custom  forbid 
it.  All  along  the  hillside  are  grape  arbors, 
yielding  the  most  luscious  fruits  in  their  season. 
The  grove  on  the  west  presents  varieties  of 
shade  trees.  Here  families  of  birds  have  held 
unmolested  possession  for  many  generations. 
Here  they  built  their  nests,  reared  their  young, 
and  sent  them  forth  into  the  world.  The  east- 
ern view  is  the  delight  of  the  family.  Covered 
with  nature's  richest  carpeting  of  green — sum- 
mer-houses here  and  there,  a  sparkling  fountain 
in  the  centre,  and  as  the  heavens  are  more 
beautiful  at  night  when  dotted  with  brilliant 
stars,  so  this  scene  is  made  more  beautiful 
by  the  myriads  of  stars  of  the  vegetable 
kingdom  sprinkled  all  over  it.  Flowers  of 
every  genus  known  to  this  clime  may  be  found 
here  in  their  perfect  state.  The  children  of  Mr. 


8  THE   WORST   FOE. 

Denesmore,  when  younger  than  they  are  now, 
thought  these  grounds  the  home  of  fairies. 
Though  these  children  have  reached  that  ma- 
ture age  at  which  fairies  and  myths  fade,  yet  to 
them  it  is  still  an  enchanted  spot.  Close  to  the 
fence  tall  maples  shade  the  streets.  Here  many 
a  weary  soul,  bowed  beneath  life's  cares  and 
anxieties,  pauses  to  lean  against  the  rail,  and 
while  the  gentle  zephyrs,  bearing  the  sweetest 
fragrance  of  flowers,  cool  his  heated  brow,  he 
wonders  if  Heaven  can  be  more  lovely  thao 
the  scene  within. 

It  was  a  balmy  day  in  June,  and  all  nature 
was  robed  in  her  most  comely  garb.  Seated 
near  the  bay  window  are  Mrs.  Denesmore  and 
her  daughter,  earnestly  gazing  at  the  landscape 
so  dear  to  them,  and  listening  to  the  distant 
hum  which  wells  up  from  the  busy  life  of  the 
growing  young  city.  A  gentle  breeze  wafts 
the  mingled  perfume  of  roses  and  other  aro- 
matic plants  through  the  open  casement.  A 
look  of  happy  contentment  is  on  the  face  of 
both  mother  and  daughter.  Mrs.  Densemore's 
age  sits  so  lightly  upon  her  that  she  really  seems 
youthful.  Her  daughter,  just  budding  into 
womanhood,  is  like  a  half  blown  rose  at 
early  morn,  when  the  dewdrops  sparkle  like 
diamonds  in  the  sunlight.  Their  conversation  has 
been  pleasant,  for  no  other  than  pleasant 
thoughts  could  produce  such  happy  content- 
ment as  beams  from  the  face  of  each. 


THE   WORST   FOE.  9 

"  We  have  great  cause  to  be  happy,  Pauline," 
said  Mrs.  Denesmore.  ' '  They  have  come  back 
again,  and  your  hours  of  loneliness  are  over." 
Mrs.  Denesmore's  voice  was  kind  and  gentle  as 
herself,  and  there  was  a  sweet  spirit  of  devotion 
in  her  manner  which  made  her  a  model  mother. 

' '  Yes,  mother,  God  has  been  very  good  to  us. 
We  have  this  beautiful  home,  I  have  you  and 
father,  and  am  spared  to  both  of  you ;  and  now 
brother  has  returned  to  us,  and  —  "  She  blushed 
and  hesitated  as  if  there  were  something  more 
to  say,  which  she  would  not  mention  even  in  the 
presence  of  her  mother. 

"I  understand  your  hesitation,  Pauline,"  said 
her  mother  with  a  smile.  "Your  pleasure  is  not 
alone  in  the  return  of  your  brother,  but  in  a  cer- 
tain young  gentleman  who  will  be  with  him. 
You  would  like  to  pay  him  some  compliment, 
but  hesitate  to  speak  his  worth  even  in  my 
presence." 

"Not  exactly,  mother,"  said  Pauline,  her 
pretty  face  becoming  serious,  and  a  shadow 
of  pain  passing  over  it.  "I  could  not  speak 
too  highly  of  him,  but  I  was  interrupted  by 
a  thought." 

"What  was  it?" 

' '  When  Maria  was  here  last  we  were  talking 
of  William,  and  I  asked  her  why  she  did  not 
congratulate  me,  showing  her  my  engagement 
ring.  She  looked  startled,  and  with  a  frown 


IO  THE   WORST    FOE. 

on  her  pretty  face,  said,  she  did  not  think  my 
choice  worthy  of  congratulation.  What  do  you 
think  her  objections  to  William  were?" 

"I  cannot  imagine — I  never  heard  anything 
against  him! " 

' '  Nor  has  any  one  else.  When  I  asked  her 
to  explain,  she  said,  apparently  half  in  jest  and 
half  in  earnest:  'His  ancestry  could  not  have 
been  much.  He's  only  a  poor  lawyer  and  an 
adventurer,  whose  sole  ambition  is  to  marry  a 
wealthy  girl  and  be  elevated  into  the  position 
his  ambition  longs  for. ' ' 

"Oh,  never  mind  her,  Pauline.  We  all  know 
that  Maria  is  a  spoiled  child,  and  did  we  not 
know  that  she  does  not  love  William  I  should 
be  inclined  to  think  her  jealous,"  said  Mrs. 
Denesmore,  while  her  fingers  worked  deftly 
with  some  fancy  materials  she  was  constructing. 
"I  hope  you  defended  William,  Pauline.  I 
don't  see  how  any  one  could  so  mistake  real 
worth  for  avarice." 

"Had  it  been  any  one  else,  mother,"  re- 
turned Pauline,  ' '  I  would  not  have  cared,  for 
all  the  world  cannot  change  my  opinion  of 
William.  But  you  know  brother  Guy  loves 
Maria  Day,  and  what  I  have  long  feared  was 
fully  confirmed  that  evening;  she  is  not  only 
spoiled,  but  envious,  petulant,  selfish,  and 
wholly  unworthy  to  be  my  brother's  wife.  A 
woman's  influence  over  a  man  like  Guy  is  great. 


THE   WORST    FOE.  II 

One  less  noble  and  trusting  would  not  heed  her 
voice,  but  Guy  is  so  susceptible  that  the  woman 
he  loves  can  lead  him  to  Heaven  or  plunge  him 
into  eternal  woe." 

Mrs.  Denesmore  watched  the  anxious  face  of 
her  daughter,  and  fancying  that  she  was  slightly 
vexed  at  the  remark  of  Maria  about  her  lover, 
she  said : 

"You  must  make  great  allowance  for  her, 
my  dear.  As  I  told  you,  Maria  is  a  spoiled 
child.  If  Guy  were  her  husband,  she  would  find 
herself  in  a  different  atmosphere,  and  gradually 
grow  to  respect  the  feelings  of  others.  And 
besides  the  important  step  is  not  yet  taken, 
and  Guy's  judgment  is  too  good  for  him  to  take 
it  until  he  knows  what  he  is  about." 

"I  know  brother  better  than  his  own  mother. 
He  loves  Maria,  and  even  if  they  are  not  en- 
gaged, it  will  be  hard  for  him  to  give  her  up, 
though  he  should  discover  imperfections  in  her," 
said  the  anxious  sister  with  a  sigh.  This  brief 
conversation  had  driven  the  sunlight  from  the 
faces  of  both  mother  and  daughter.  Perfect 
bliss  is  impossible  in  this  world.  Anxious  cares 
for  others,  if  nothing  else,  will  at  times  o'er- 
shadow  our  happiness  despite  all  we  may  do. 

"Helloa,  Pauline,  what's  the  matter?"  de- 
manded the  hearty,  good-natured  husband  and 
father,  entering  the  sitting-room  at  this  mo- 
ment. "You  look  as  if  you  were  getting 


12  THE   WORST  FOE. 

ready  for  a  funeral — what's  the  trouble  ?  Why, 
mother,  too,  is  looking  sober  as  a  judge." 

"We  were  talking  of  Guy,  father,"  said  Pau- 
line, after  a  momentary  embarrassment. 

' '  Of  Guy  ?  Why,  he  is  in  good  health,  with 
fair  prospects  for  the  future.  Were  you  cjflcu- 
lating  on  the  chances  of  his  failure — borrowing 
trouble  ?  I  have  always  boasted  that  there'was 
not  a  pessimist  among  us,  but  here  I  find  you 
both  looking  solemn  as  judges  at  some  event 
that  will  never  happen." 

"We  were  speaking  of  Guy  and  Maria, 
father — and — and  I  will  tell  you  candidly  that 
I  don't  believe  she  is  worthy  of  him,"  said 
Pauline,  her  eyes  drooping  beneath  the  strong 
glance  of  her  lather. 

"Oh,  well,  Guy  will  find  that  out  in  time, 
never  fear,"  said  Mr.  Denesmore,  laying  his 
hat  on  the  sofa  at  his  side.  ' '  He  is  a  student 
of  human  nature,  and  if  there  are  bad  qualities 
in  her  nature  they  will  be  discovered  by  him, 
you  can  rest  assured  of  that.  I  guess  Guy  is 
coming  in  now.  'Talk  of  angels  and  you  can 
hear  the.  flutter  of  their  wings. ' ' 

The  eyes  of  parents  and  daughter  were  turned 
with  fondness  and  anxiety  toward  the  fine,  intelli- 
gent looking  young  man  who  had  just  entered. 

Guy  Denesmore  was  all  a  fond  parent  might 
ask.  He  was  obedient,  kind,  with  no  ignoble 
qualities,  and  enough  ambition  to  stimulate  him 


THE   WORST    FOE.  13 

to  action,  yet  not  enough  to  trample  under  foot 
the  rights  of  others.  Guy  was  a  merry,  unself- 
ish lad,  and,  if  he  possessed  any  fault,  it  was  an- 
overweening  confidence  in  his  friends  and  a  ten- 
dency to  have  his  actions  directed  by  their 
desires.  This  weakness,  if  it  was  a  weakness, 
was  more  the  outpouring  of  a  generous  heart 
than  a  real  fault.  He  was  a  model  youth.  See 
him  now,  as  he  sits  talking  with  his  parents  and 
sister,  and  one  can  but  feel  perfect  confidence  in 
his  manliness  and  integrity.  His  mother  he 
held  in  the  highest  affection.  Her  wise  counsel 
directed  his  way  until  he  arrived  at  the  age  of 
maturity,  and  she  is  still  the  sharer  of  his  hopes 
and  disappointments.  His  father,  both  himself 
and  Pauline  always  regarded  as  the  embodiment 
of  all  that  was  good  and  noble,  yet  it  was  to  the 
mother  they  ever  appealed  in  times  of  petty 
tribulation. 

The  Denesmore  family  consists  only  of  the 
four  whom  we  have  mentioned.  Mr.  Denes- 
more  is  nearing  three-score,  but  having  no 
mental  or  physical  ailment,  he  was  a  well-pre- 
served old  man,  with  but  few  streaks  of  gray  in 
his  hair,  and  an  almost  youthful  light  in  his 
eyes.  A  little  above  medium  height,  features 
regular  but  not  handsome,  eyes  beaming  with 
good  humor,  kindness  and  sympathy  for  erring 
mankind, — he  is  always  ready  to  give  a  helping1 
hand  when  needed,  either  by  substantial  gifts  or 


14  THE   WORST    FOE. 

encouraging  words  to  the  downhearted.  Such 
we  find  the  generous,  prosperous  merchant,  Mr. 
Denesmore. 

Guy,  their  only  son,  is  twenty-four,  the  inter- 
esting age  when  the  intellect,  like  spring  buds, 

»' 

is  unfolding  every  hour,  and  the  anxious  in- 
quiries, "What  will  our  boy  be?"  are  answered 
by  seeing  the  kind  of  a  man  he  has  made.  Guy 
lias  fulfilled  his  parents'  most  fond  anticipation. 
He  is  tall  and  handsome,  broad-chested,  with 
noble  features  and  large  brown  eyes.  His  well- 
formed  head  is  thickly  covered  with  chestnut 
curls,  and  his  large  brown  eyes  are  both  ex- 
pressive and  tender,  sparkling  with  humor  and 
beaming  with  intelligence.  Could  fond  parents 
desire  a  more  promising  son  ? 

Pauline,  the  light  of  the  Denesmore  house- 
hold, is  a  gentle,  loving  girl  of  twenty-two, 
a  little  below  medium  height,  with  a  countenance 
intellectually  pale,  large  brown  eyes,  a  shade 
darker  than  her  brother's,  and  she  possesses  a 
rich  heritage  in  a  happy,  sunny  temperament, 
which,  since  her  existence,  has  never  been 
shadowed  by  more  than  a  passing  cloud.  In 
addition  to  being  blessed  with  kind  Christian 
parents,  they  had  every  advantage  wealth  could 
give. 

Four  years  previous  to  the  opening  of  our 
story,  Guy  brought  home  with  him  one  vaca- 
tion, and  introduced  into  his  family,  a  college 


THE    WORST    FOE.  I  5 

friend  named  William  Strasmore,  who  immedi- 
ately engrafted  himself  into  the  good  graces 
and  friendship  of  the  entire  family  in  spite  of 
the  difference  in  their  circumstances.  He  not 
only  won  the  friendship  of  Guy  and  esteem 
of  his  parents,  but  the  heart  of  the  fair  Pauline, 
as  we  have  seen.  William  was  a  self-made 
man,  having  but  little  recollection  of  his  parents. 

He  was  brought  up  by  a  good,  industrious 
farmer,  who  gave  him  the  scant  "schooling" 
which  the  district  afforded,  and  when  he 
showed  a  thir?t  for  knowledge,  Mr.  Johns, 
whose  limited  means  could  not  provide  for 
the  boy,  advised  William  to  go  to  the  nearest 
village  and  seek  the  most  profitable  employ- 
ment, that  he  might  work  his  way  through 
college. 

"But  remember,  Will,"  said  Mr.  Johns, 
"  should  you  fail,  you  still  have  a  home  here." 

Taking  an  affectionate  leave  of  his  foster 
parents,  he  left  the  old  homestead  and  went 
out  to  seek  his  fortune.  After  long  years,  by 
steady  industry,  he  worked  his  way  through 
college.  He  entered  about  the  same  time  Guy 
did,  and  having  niany  noble  traits  in  common, 
they  soon  became  fast  friends.  The  history  of 
the  youth's  gallant  struggle  with  poverty  greatly 
endeared  him  to  the  noble-hearted  Guy.  The  end 
of  their  college  days  came  at  last.  William 
thought  of  procuring  employment  for  a  year  to 


1 6  THE   WORST    FOE. 

enable  him  to  study  law,  his  chosen  profession, 
as  his  slender  means  were  exhausted.  Guy,  who 
learned  his  object,  insisted  that  he  should  ac- 
company him  home,  saying  he  would  consider 
it  a  privilege  to  loan  him  sufficient  funds  to 
finish  his  studies.  William  declared  that  it  was 
more  than  he  could  accept  of  a  friend,  but  Guy 
was  so  persistent  that  he  promised  at  last  to  con- 
sider the  matter  of  spending  the  vacation  at  his 
friend's  home.  He  did,  and  it  proved  the  hap- 
piest vacation  to  the  Denesmore's  they  had 
ever  known,  and  one  which  was  always  a 
pleasure  to  look  back  on. 


r 


PAULINE    DENSMORE,  THE  HEROINE  OF  OUR  STORY. 
See  page  14. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  DAYS. 

"Change  that  discontented  air, 
Frowns  become  not  one  so  fair, 
'Tis  not  love  disturbs  thy  rest  ; 
Love's  a  stranger  to  thy  breast." 

— Byron. 

FROM  the  home  of  the  Denesmore  s  we  ask  the 
reader's  attention  to  the  house  of  the  Days. 
There  is  a  marked  contrast  in  the  two  places  as 
there  is  in  the  people  who  inhabit  them,  though 
both  families  are  highly  respected,  moving  in  the 
best  society  in  Staunton.  The  house  of  the 
Days  was  farther  up  town  and  far  more  aristo- 
cratic than  Mr.  Denesmore's,  more  elegantly 
finished  and  furnished.  Grand  and  proud  as  the 
home  of  some  lord,  it  stands  in  the  centre  of  a 
large  grass  plat  without  tree  or  shrub,  enclosed 
by  stone  wall  and  reached  by  a  flight  of  broad 
stone  steps. 

With  the  aid  of  art  and  accomplishments  Mrs. 
Day  might  be  thought  handsome,  but  a  close 
observation  of  her  features  would  discover  signs  of 
selfishness,  which,  despite  the  tall  graceful  figure 
and  regular  features,  mars  her  beauty.  Her 
eyes  are  large  and  dark,  her  hair  jet  black  and 

(2)  17 


1 8  THE   WORST   FOE. 

yet  her  complexion  fair,  and  her  age  difficult  to 
determine,  yet  one  could  see  she  was  on  the 
sunny  side  of  life.  Reclining  on  a  sofa,  one 
jeweled  hand  idly  toying  with  the  leaves  of  a 
novel  is  the  counterpart  of  Mrs.  Day,  though 
many  years  younger.  Despite  Mrs.  Day's  youth- 
ful appearance  one  can  see  that  they  are  moth- 
er and  daughter.  It  is  Maria,  the  only  daughter 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomas  Day,  an  acknowledged 
belle,  though  a  petted  and  spoiled  beauty. 

Seated  near  the  window  is  a  bright  e)  ed  boy 
of  ten  summers,  who  is  deeply  buried  in  his  book, 
yet  not  so  completely  lost  as  not  to  hear  what  the 
ladies  say.  Mark  was  the  youngest  of  the  Day 
famil) ,  and  a  remarkable  boy  'he  was  indeed. 
Never  did  a  child  seemed  to  possess  so  many 
contradictory  characteristics.  He  was  a  lad  but 
poorly  understood,  and  while  some  declared  him 
to  be  the  worst  boy  in  town,  others  said  he  was 
the  best.  Mark  had,  among  other  sterling  char- 
acteristics, wonderful  firmness  of  purpose.  He 
was  a  generous,  fun-loving  boy,  up  to  all  sorts  of 
mischief,  yet  with  a  tender  heart  for  the  oppressed, 
and  despised  hollow  mockery  and  show. 

'  'Why  don't  you  make  Guy  declare  himself, 
Maria,"  said  Mrs.  Day  after  a  few  moments  spent 
in  tapping  her  knee  with  her  fan.  '  'I  know  he 
loves  you,  and  I  think  it  is  your  fault  that  you 
are  not  already  engaged.  I  don't  believe  in 
long  courtships.  You  and  Guy  have  had  since 


THE   WORST   FOE.  19 

you  were  children  to  make  up  your  minds  about 
each  other."  Mrs.  Day  here  placed  her  fan  to 
her  beautiful  mouth  to  conceal  the  smile  that 
played  thereon,  and  half  in  jest  and  half  in 
earnest,  continued, ' '  Your  father  was  not  long  in 
proposing,  and  he  was  as  particular  as  the 
average." 

"Well,  I  guess  papa  hadn't  a  silly  mother  and 
sister  to  lecture  him  on  morals  and  manners, " 
said  Miss  Day  half  spitefully,  while  a  frown 
gathered  on  her  pretty  brow. 

"Do  you  think,  Maria,  that  they  are  trying  to 
turn  him  against  you  ?  " 

"I  am  very  well  convinced  they  are." 

"Has  he  been  less  attentive  since  he  came 
home?" 

'  'No,  he  thinks  too  well  of  me  to  slight  me, 
but  I  know  them  so  well  and  hate  them  accord- 
ingly, especially  that  pious  fraud,  Pauline," 
snapped  Maria,  angrily  raising  her  body  to  an 
upright  position  on  the  sofa  and  drawing  her  feet 
under  her,  while  she  dropped  her  novel  on  the 
carpet,  "we  can  agree  on  nothing — nothing  at 
all.  They  neither  one  like  me,  though  Pauline 
is  no  better  than  I,  if  she  does  do  mission  and 
Sunday  School  work.  You  remember  the  storm 
last  summer,  mother,  which  detained  me  at 
Denesmores  so  late  that  I  was  forced  to  stay  all 
night?  There  was  such  fearful  lightning,  and 
I'm  so  afraid  of  lightning.  Pauline  saw  I  was 


2O  THE  WORST  FOE. 

frightened,  and  asked  me  to  share  her  room,  and 
said  if  I  was  nervous  she  would  read  to  me.  Of 
course  I  could  not  listen  to  reading  and  she  began 
to  lecture  me  about  fear.  She  said  there  were 
evils  more  to  be  dreaded  than  storms  of  thunder 
and  lightnings — evils  which  destroy  body  and 
soul ;  that  we  could  all  do  something  to  remedy 
them.  I  began  to  feel  ridiculous  in  the  presence 
of  this  fanatic  ;  and  when  she  put  her  arm  around 
my  neck  and  begged  me  never,  for  the  love  of 
humanity,  to  use  or  encourage  the  use  of  wine 
or  alcoholic  beverages,  I  don't  know  whether  I 
was  most  amused  or  indignant.  She  feared 
I  did  not  realize  the  harm  it  was  doing  in  our 
land.  What  if  I  do  sip  a  little  wine  when  I  am 
weak,  and  what  if  I  do  offer  it  to  my  callers  on 
New  Years  day,  is  it  any  reason  that  I  will  either 
become  a  drunkard  or  make  drunkards  of  others? 
Besides  it  is  fashionable,  and  I  told  her  so.  The 
best  people  in  the  world  do  it,  and  why  should 
not  I  ?  But  she  implored  me  to  forsake 
fashion  for  principle.  Did  you  ever  hear  any- 
thing so  ridiculous  ?  As  though  anyone  need 
forsake  either.  She  got  her  Bible  and  I  was 
forced  to  listen  while  she  read,  and  then  she  knelt 
and  prayed  just  as  if  she  was  some  preacher, and 
I  never  saw  or  heard  anything  so  silly.  I  can  go 
to  church  and  listen  to  a  sermon,  even  if  I  don't 
believe  in  it,  for  there  one  can  study  fashions,  but 
a  prayer  to  a  God  of  whose  very  existence  we 


THE    WORST   FOE.  21 

have  no  proof,  always  tires  me.  Her  prayer  was 
a  direct  insult  to  us,  for  it  was  for  the  advance- 
ment of  the  temperance  cause,  which  you  know 
we  have  ridiculed,  and  she  knew  it.  That  is  the 
way  she  insults  me,  or  by  pretending  to 
love  and  pray  for  me,  and  then  as  soon 
as  I  am  away  she  will  tell  Guy  how  hard-hearted 
a  sinner  I  am,  and  wholly  unworthy  to  be  any 
Christian  man's  wife.  Christianindeed !  Deliver 
me  from  all  such  Christians. " 

Maria  had  worked  herself  up  to  a  pitch  of 
frenzy  over  her  imaginary  wrongs,  and  forgot  for 
the  time  being  her  brother,  who  had  become  so 
absorbed  in  the  acrimonious  assault  of  his  sister 
on  Pauline  Denesmore,  that  he  laid  his  book 
aside  and  listened.  Evidently  the  boy  was  much 
displeased,  for  Pauline  was  not  only  his  warm 
friend,  but  he  was  a  member  of  her  Sunday 
School  class.  He  checked  his  first  impulse  to 
make  an  angry  retort  for  he  remembered  that  she 
had  taught  him  that,  "A  wrathful  man  stirreth 
up  strife,  but  he  that  is  slow  to  anger  appeaseth 
.strife." 

His  dark  eye  flashed  with  indignation,  his 
breast  heaved,  and  when  Maria  had  concluded 
with  all  the  scorn  her  pent  up  passion  had  at 
command,  he  could  control  himself  no  longer  and 
burst  forth  with : 

"Maria,  have  you  determined  to  serve  the 
devil,  that  you  must  call  the  best  woman  irx 


22  THE   WORST   FOE. 

Staunton  a  hypocrite,  because  she  tries  to  make 
people  better  ?  If  all  women  would  pray  and 
work  for  temperance  as  Pauline  does,  there 
wouldn't  be  so  many  ragged  children  on  the 
streets." 

"Oh-ho,  you  are  a  convert,  are  you,"  asked 
Maria  sarcastically. 

"Yes,  and  I'm  not  ashamed  of  it  either,"  the 
boy  bravely  answered. 

'  'I  suppose  you  will  turn  a  temperance  mis- 
sionary ?  " 

"I'm  not  goin'  to  sit  by  and  hear  a  young  wo- 
man who  has  been  such  a  friend  to  me  as  Pauline 
Denesmore  has,  abused.  'She  no  better  than 
you  ? '  Did  you  ever  make  any  body  better  ? 
No,  but  she  has.  You  used  to  scold  me,  slap 
me,  drive  me  from  the  room  when  I  was  in  your 
way,  or  your  aristocrats  were  here.  You  made 
me  hunt  amusement  in  the  streets  among  idle 
boys,  and  there  Pauline  found  me  little  better 
than  a  heathen.  She  told  me  stories  that  I  never 
heard  at  home,  and  of  a  grander  world  than  this; 
that's  something  you  and  mother  never  think  of; 
you  are  too  busy  trying  to  enjoy  this.  She 
taught  me  it  was  wrong  to  quarrel  and  fight,  so 
I  have  not  had  a  row  for  two  years,  and  I  don't 
care  how  many  chips  the  boys  put  on  their 
shoulders,  I'm  not  goin'  to  knock  'em  off.  She 
made  me  so  much  better  that  you  even  let  me 
come  in  here  occasionally,  and  I  never  make  you 


THE   WORST   FOE.  23 

ashamed  when  your  grandees  come,  by  shaving 
a  poodle,  or  exchanging  somebody's  hat  for  the 
old  hat  the  gardener  threw  away.  You  say  I'm 
better — everybody  says  I'm  better  ; — now  who 
made  me  better  ?  It  wasn't  you." 

"Do  you  think  it  was  Pauline  and  all  her  non- 
sense ?"  asked  Maria  as  spitefully  as  she  could. 

"Yes,  it  was  Pauline  and  all  her  goodness." 

"Her  goodness! — it's  her  hypocrisy.  She 
wants  people  to  talk  about  her,  and  so  acts  out  a 
lie.  She  and  you  had  better  start  a  branch  mis- 
sionary society." 

The  boy  was  not  equal  to   the  bitter  sarcasm 
of  his  sister.     All  his  good  impulses  were  swept . 
aside,  and  almost  blind  with  passion,  he  seized 
his  straw  hat  which  lay  on  the  floor  at  his  side, 
and  said  : 

"I'm  going  right  to  Guy  Denesmore  and  tell 
him  every  word  you've  said.  I'll  teach  you  what 
it  is  to  slander  a  good  girl. "  And  the  indignant 
youth  left  the  room,  leaving  his  mother  and  sis- 
ter both  screaming  for  him  to  return. 

Little  attention  had  been  paid  to  Mark  until 
he  threatened  to  tell  Guy,  and  knowing  his  de- 
termined spirit,  both  mother  and  daughter  became 
alarmed  at  once.  Both  sorely  regretted  having 
spoken  so  freely  in  his  presence. 

"Why  didn't  we  send  him  from  the  room," 
said  Maria  in  dismay.  "It  would  be  just  like 
him  to  tell  Guy  every  word, "  and  as  the  willful 


24  THE   WORST   FOE. 

boy  could  not  be  brought  back,  the  spoiled  beauty 
began  to  cry. 

Mrs.  Day,  who  had  weak  nerves,  declared  she 
was  entirely  upset  by  that  horrible  boy.  Those 
temperance  fanatics  and  Sunday  School  people 
were  ruining  him.  She  used  her  smelling  salts 
to  keep  from  fainting,  and  had  a  servant  start 
out  to  bring  Mark  back ;  but  too  late,  too  much 
time  had  already  been  lost,  the  boy  could  not 
be  found. 

Mark  Day  inherited  his  willfulness  from  his 
father,  while  he  drew  his  gentleness  and  kind- 
ness from  his  weak,  almost  silly,  but  good-hearted 
mother.  There  were  but  two  members  of  the 
Day  family  whom  we  have  not  introduced.  Mr. 
Thomas  Day,  the  father  of  Mark,  was  a  shrewd 
business  man  of  the  world,  who  had  a  will  of  his 
own  closely  bordering  on  stubbornness.  He 
entertained  the  idea  that  he  was  master  of  him- 
self and  those  under  him,  thanks  to  none  but 
himself.  He  did  not  believe  in  the  existence  of 
a  God,  and  was  one  of  those  materialistic  gentle- 
men, too  intelligent  to  endorse  the  old  fogy  no- 
tions of  the  Bible.  He  was  a  purely  intellectual 
infidel,  who  took  delight  in  deriding  and  ridicul- 
ing the  people  called  Christians.  He  did  not 
know  whether  a  man  had  a  soul  or  not,  and  did 
not  care  ;  he  only  found  himself  in  this  world, 
and  resolved  to  have  a  good  time  while  here,  and 
take  his  chances  on  there  being  any  hereafter. 


THE   WORST   FOE.  2JJ 

He  believed  there  was  no  harm  and  much  com- 
fort derived  from  the  social  glass  ;  as  for  a  mart 
becoming  a  drunkard,  that  was  quite  a  different 
thing.  Every  man  should  have  his  guage,  and 
go  no  farther.  Because  some  men  ate  too  much 
beefsteak  for  their  health  it  was  no  reason  all 
mankind  should  discard  beefsteak ;  why  not  the 
same  rule  apply  to  liquor.  Mr.  Day  rejoiced  in 
being  called  a  liberalist  in  everything. 

He  was  regarded  by  his  liberal  friends  as  a 
model  husband  and  father,  and  though  he  did 
supply  the  temporal  wants  of  his  family,  yet 
when  crossed  in  any  way,  they  received  the 
full  benefit  of  the  disturbed  tranquility  of  his 
mind.  The  eldest  son,  Ernest  Day,  is  a  fast 
young  man,  who,  with  all  his  father's  inflexible 
will,  possesses  a  more  revengeful  spirit  than 
Maria.  He  was  twenty-seven  years  of  age  at 
the  time  of  our  story,  and  like  his  father,  a  skep- 
tic and  believer  in  the  social  glass.  From  argu- 
ing against  the  temperance  fanatics,  he  came  to 
hate  the  men  and  women  who  would  restrain  his 
liberties. 

Maria  Day  was  the  favorite  of  her  parents  and 
spoiled  accordingly.  Like  her  brother  she  wor- 
ships no  God  save  self,  and  has  no  higher  motive 
than  the  gratification  of  her  pride  and  her  intense 
dislike  of  those  who  oppose  her. 

Mischievous  Mark  Day  was  a  puzzle  to  every 
body.  When  only  four  years  of  age  he  was  the 


26  THE    WORST    FOE. 

budding  promise  of  a  bad  boy,  full  of  impudence 
and  profanity,  which  shocked  his  mother  and 
amused  his  father.  He  was  so  continually  in 
boyish  mischief  that  even  at  home  he  acquired 
the  name  of  an  incorrigible  boy.  But  for  the 
past  two  years  he  had  been  trying  to  do  right 
for  right's  sake.  Not  until  lately,  however,  had 
his  friends  become  aware  of  the  change  in  him, 
and  no  one  seemed  able  to  tell  the  cause.  His 
teacher  extolled  him  for  his  industry  and  gentle- 
manly deportment.  The  boy  who  had  promised 
only  to  become  a  champion  prize  fighter,  now 
bid  fair  to  become  a  refined  gentleman.  Grad- 
ually Mark  was  winning  the  confidence  of  all, 
and  was  no  longer  dreaded  by  his  mother  and 
sister.  But  when  he  completely  lost  his  temper 
his  old  willfulness  got  the  better  of  him,  as  we 
have  seen,  just  when  the  child  was  making  his 
strongest  effort  to  do  right.  Christ  rebuked 
Peter  for  his  fiery  zeal  when  he  cut  off  the  ear 
of  a  servant  of  the  high  priest,  and  bade  him  put 
up  his  sword,  but  dear  reader,  be  not  too  quick 
to  condemn  Mark.  He  had  not  yet  learned  to 
rely  in  such  trials  wholly  on  One  mighty  to  save. 
He  had  trusted  in  himself  alone,  and  as  is 
always  the  result  in  such  cases,  he  was  too  weak 
to  resist  the  temptation. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WILLIAM  STRASMORE. 

"O  happiness  !  our  being,  end  and  aim  ! 
Good,  pleasure,  ease,  content!  what  e'er  thy  name, 
That  something  still  which  prompts  the  eternal  sigh, 
For  which  we  bear  to  live  or  dare  to  die." 

— Essay  on  Man, 

"What  conscience  dictates  to  be  done, 

Or  warns  me  not  to  do, 
This,  teach  me  more  than  hell  to  shun, 

That,  more  than  Heaven  pursue." 

— Pope. 

T9TE  must  ask  our  readers  to  go  back  with  us 
^^  four  years  in  our  story.  Pauline,  who  had 
just  returned  home  from  a  female  college  where 
her  education  had  been  completed,  is  flitting 
here  and  there  about  the  old  place,  experiencing 
only  the  joy  which  a  child  can  feel  on  rejoining 
her  parents  after  a  long  absence. 

"I  will  never  leave  them  again,"  she  thought 
as  she  noticed  the  exquisite  pleasure  it  gave  her 
parents  to  have  her  with  them  once  more.  She 
had  preceded  her  brother  a  day  or  two,  but  he 
was  now  expected  in  a  few  hours.  He  had  been 
to  a  different  institution,  and  having  completed 
his  education,  save  his  professional  course,  wrote 

27 


28  THE    WORST    FOE. 

home  to  his  parents  that  one  year  more  woulet 
finish  that,  and  he  would  soon  establish  himself 
in  his  native  town  as  an  M.  D. 

Pauline,  having  read  her  brother's  letter,  super- 
intended the  arrangement  of  his  room  and  the 
room  of  the  young  friend  he  was  to  bring  with 
him.  She  prepared  boquets  of  the  choicest 
flowers,  and  made  the  rooms  fragrant  as  bloom- 
ing gardens.  Guy's  room  was  in  the  south- 
east corner  of  the  building  on  the  second  floor ; 
his  friend  was  to  occupy  one  equally  elegant  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  hall.  Everything  was 
done  that  love  and  taste  could  suggest  to  make 
the  return  of  the  brother,  and  visit  of  his  friend 
a  pleasant  event. 

The  Denesmore  carriage  was  sent  to  the  depot 
to  meet  Guy  and  his  friend.  It  was  with  a  feel- 
ing akin  to  timidity  that  William  Strasmore  took 
a  seat  in  the  carriage.  Mr.  Denesmore  was  at 
the  depot  in  person  to  welcome  his  son  and  his 
son's  friend.  When  William  felt  the  hearty 
grasp  of  this  honest  man's  hand  and  heard  the 
earnest  welcome  with  which  he  was  greeted,  he 
felt  that  his  visit  would  be  no  unpleasant  intrusion 
on  the  family  reunion.  He  found  in  the  father 
the  same  kindly,  open,  manly  countenance  he 
had  so  much  admired  in  the  son.  His  highly 
sensitive  nature  would  make  him  feel  like  an  in- 
truder, in  spite  of  all  his  efforts  to  feel  com- 
posed, until  Mr.  Denesmore's  conversation 


THE   WORST   FOE.  2g 

changed  his  thoughts.  When  they  reached  the 
house,  William  had  only  time  to  gaze  for  a  mo- 
ment on  the  beautiful  surroundings,  when  his 
quick  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  two  smiling  faces 
at  the  window,  which  vanished  the  moment  they 
were  discovered,  and  a  moment  later  Mrs.  Denes- 
more  and  Pauline  appeared  hurrying  down  the 
white  pebbled  walk  to  the  carriage  to  greet  the 
son  and  brother. 

When  their  greetings  were  over,  Guy  presented 
his  friend,  and  William  fancied,as  he  bowed  to  her, 
that  he  saw  a  tint  on  Pauline's  face  vying  with 
the  pink  rose  at  her  throat.  Mrs.  Denesmore 
was  one  of  those  kind,  motherly  ladies,  who, 
in  her  joy  at  her  son's  return  would  not  forget 
his  friend. 

' '  I  am  glad  Guy  persuaded  you  to  come  with 
him,"  she  said,  holding  his  hand  as  he  thought 
his  own  mother  would  have  done.  "We  were 
afraid  from  the  letters  he  wrote  that  you  would 
not  come ;  we  shall  do  all  we  can  to  make  this  a 
pleasant  vacation." 

What  could  young  Strasmore  say  more  than  to 
thank  her  ?  Mrs.  Denesmore  was  at  William's 
side  as  they  walked  up  the  lawn  path  to  the  front 
door,  while  Pauline  tripped  along  by  the  side  of 
her  brother,  and  Mr.  Denesmore  superintended 
the  transfer  of  their  luggage. 

The  young  travelers  were  shown  to  their  rooms. 
To  Guy  never  did  the  old  home  seem  so  delight- 
ful, while  to  William  it  was  a  veritable  paradise. 


3O  THE    WORST   FOE. 

As  he  stood  looking  from  his  window  on  the  pio 
ture,  his  pleasure  manifested  itself  through  the 
sparkle  of  his  clear  blue  eye.  His  was  an  elegant 
form,  tall  and  commanding,  with  limbs  and  fea- 
tures well  moulded,  and  an  expression  which 
represented  a  heart  in  sympathy  with  mankind. 
The  hair  was  neither  chestnut  nor  golden,  but  a 
brilliant  brown,  which  seemed,  as  it  fell  to  his 
cars,  to  give  dignity  to  his  intelligent  face.  The 
thin  lips  were  indicative  of  firmness  of  purpose 
and  decision  of  character.  He  was  one  of  those 
who  could  enter  into  another's  joy  or  sorrow,  and 
make  himself  agreeable  under  all  circumstances, 
without  swerving  from  the  right. 

After  rest  and  dinner  the  young  people  spent 
the  evening  in  the  parlor.  Music  is  usually  the 
choice  of  young  and  old,  especially  when  they 
possess  such  voices  as  Pauline,  Guy  and  William. 
Pauline  was  an  excellent  pianist,  and  after  render- 
ing some  instrumental  music,  they  naturally 
drifted  into  song.  William  possessed  an  excel" 
lent  bass  voice,  Guy  a  superb  tenor,  and  Pauline 
a  fine  soprano. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Denesmore  shared  the  quiet 
pleasure  of  their  children.  It  was  so  pleasant  to 
have  them  at  home  once  more.  The  old  house  had 
seemed  so  lonely  when  they  were  away,  and  now 
all  the  life  and  gayety  which  had  filled  it  when  in 
childhood  their  two  children  romped  about  the 
rooms  and  halls,  seemed  suddenly  restored. 


THE   WORST   FOE.  3! 

But  Mrs.  Denesmore  reflected  that  they  were 
no  longer  children.  Guy  had  reached  man's 
estate,  and  his  future  was  supposed  to  be  mapped 
out.  When  his  professional  studies  were  over 
he  would  marry  Maria  Day,  and  settle  down  in 
his  own  town.  The  mother  knew  he  would  be 
very  happy  and  thought  he  might  well  be,  for 
surely  it  would  be  a  marriage  made  in  Heaven. 
She  had  none  of  those  evil  thoughts  of  Maria 
Day  of  which  she  had  been  accused.  Neither 
Pauline  nor  her  mother  had  ever  entertained  a, 
real  harsh  thought  against  the  spoiled  beauty. 

But  would  sorrow  ever  come  to  the  gentle,, 
trusting  Pauline  ?  the  mother  asked  herself. 
Surely  not !  One  so  good,  so  pure  and  lovely 
as  Pauline  should  not  suffer.  She  had  been  so 
busy  with  her  thoughts  as  to  the  future  of  her 
children,  she  had  for  the  time  being,  lost  the 
song  they  were  singing,  but  now  like  an  answer 
to  her  mental  interrogatories,  all  three  voices  rang 
in  her  ears : 

"I  love  thee,  I  love  thee,  pass  under  the  rod." 

Mrs.  Denesmore  was  too  sensible  to  regard  this 
as  an  omen,  but  in  after  years  when  storm-tossed 
and  racked  by  apprehensions  of  greater  evil  and 
miseries  in  the  future,  her  mind  often  reverted 
to  that  evening  and  its  almost  prophetic  words : 

"I  love  thee,  I  love  thee,  pass  under  the  rod." 

Her  strangely  pleasant  and  yet  painful  reflec- 


32  THE    WORST    FOE. 

tions  were  interrupted  by  her  husband  saying : 
*  'That  young  fellow  Strasmore  is  a  fine  young 
man." 

"Yes,  he  is — what  a  splendid  bass  voice  he 
has." 

"He  has  a  noble  soul,  too.  I  do  not  blame 
Guy  for  forming  his  friendship,  for  if  I  am  not 
very  much  mistaken  he  is  a  young  man  who  will 
make  his  mark  in  the  world." 

The  songs  were  finished  for  the  present,  and 
Guy  proposed,  as  the  evening  was  so  pleasant, 
that  they  take  a  stroll  about  the  old  place  which 
he  had  not  seen  for  months.  William,  who 
amid  so  much  kindness  could  feel  strange  no 
longer,  consented,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they 
were  all  three  walking  down  the  lawn  with  guileless 
Pauline  between  them,  talking  as  merrily  to 
Mr.  Strasmore  as  if  they  had  been  the  warmest 
of  friends  from  childhood.  They  wandered 
through  the  grove  which  was  the  mocking  bird's 
home,  and  every  tree  had  it  s  private  history, 
which  Pauline  recounted  in  her  charming,  child- 
like manner.  Some  of  those  trees  were  grown 
hoary  with  age,  and  their  massive  trunks  had 
become  gnarled,  having  a  weird  appearance  in 
the  dull  gray  twilight. 

Mr.  Strasmore  was  shown  the  laughing  stream- 
let fed  by  the  spring,  and  the  clear  dimpled 
waters  seemed  just  as  shy,  just  as  youthful  as 
when  Guy  and  Pauline  were  children. 


THE    SONG. 
»'J  love  thee,  I  love  fhee,  pass  under  the  rod."    See  page  3J, 


THE    WORST   FOE.  33 

"You  see  those  streets  and  houses  over  there" 
said  Guy  pointing  to  where  the  town  had  en- 
croached upon  them,  hemming  in  the  old  home- 
stead like  a  beleaguered  army,  "that  used  to  be 
our  cow  pasture.  There  Spot,  Brindle,  Rose  and 
Whiteface  used  to  feed,  and  always  waited  for 
Pauline  and  myself  with  Carlo  to  come  and  drive 
them  home.  I  can  remember  how  they  would 
come  lowing  home  as  if  very  anxious  to  get  to 
the  milking  pen,  though  they  had  made  no  effort  to 
reach  it  until  we  had  started  them.  Spot  who 
wore  the  'big  bell'  always  went  before,  clanging 
it  from  side  to  side  as  she  halted  to  nip  the  grass 
by  the  way. " 

"No  cows  feed  there  now,"  said  William. 

"No,"  and  both  Guy  and  Pauline  sighed. 

"It  speaks  of  the  improvement  and  advance- 
ment of  the  time  that  they  do  not, "  said  William 
hopefully. 

"Also  of  the  changes  of  time,"  answered  Pau- 
line, her  sweet  voice  almost  pathetic.  "The 
pasture  is  gone  and  so  are  Spot,  Brindle,  Rose 
and  Whiteface,  and  brother  and  I  dug  Carlo's 
grave  and  watered  it  with  our  tears  years  ago." 

"If  you  have  attended  no  sadder  funer- 
als than  those,  Miss  Denesmore"  said  William, 
"you  have  been  very  fortunate." 

'  'We  have  been  greatly  blessed,  Mr.  Strasmore, 
and  it  is  silly  for  us  to  repine  because  there  is  no 
longer  a  pasture,  or  cows  for  us  to  drive  home, 

(8) 


34  THE    WORST    FOE. 

or  a  Carlo  to  romp  with  us.     But  in  that  pasture 
I  had  my  first  adventure,"  said  Pauline. 

"What  was  it?"  asked  Mr.  Strasmore,  hoping 
she  would  tell  him,  because  he  liked  the  music 
of  her  voice  more  than  any  story  she  might  tell. 

'  'I  went  alone  one  evening  with  Carlo  after 
the  cows,  and  saw  the  first  intoxicated  man  I 
ever  saw  in  my  life.  It  was  father's  hired  man, 
Jack.  He  was  coming  down  the  lane  from  the 
village  with  a  wagon,  and  seeing  me  he  let  the 
team  go  home  just  as  they  pleased,  and  staggered 
across  the  field  to  where  I  was  driving  home  the 
cows,  he  said  to  help.  He  seemed  so  queer, 
staggering  and  reeling  as  he  walked,  and  his  face 
was  so  red  that  he  frightened  me  almost  out  of 
my  wits ;  but  good,  faithful  Carlo  would  not  let 
him  come  near  me. 

"  'Confound  the  dog,  he's  drunk  and  thinks 
I  am, '  said  Jack,  when  he  found  that  faithful 
Carlo  would  not  let  him  approach  me.  I  could 
not  understand  what  made  mother  so  grave  next 
morning,  or  why  Jack  was  so  ashamed  of  his 
conduct.  In  a  short  time  the  act  was  repeated, 
and  then  mother  told  him  of  the  ruin  it  would 
soon  bring  to  his  soul  as  well  as  body.  Poor 
Jack  looked  very  much  mortified  as  he  replied  : 
'I  know  it,  Mrs.  Denesmore,  and  I  have  tried 
and  tried  to  quit  it,  but  I  cannot ;  my  father  be- 
fore me  was  a  drunkard,  and  as  long  as  the 
temptation  is  set  before  me  I  can't  resist  it.' 


THE   WORST    FOE.  35 

He  went  from  bad  to  worse  until  father  dis- 
charged him,  and  I  remember  his  words  as  if 
they  were  his  dying  utterances  coming  up  from 
the  gutter.  'This  is  all  one  need  expect  from  a 
drunkard's  son,  my  father  filled  a  drunkard's 
grave,  and  I  guess  I  will  follow  him  sooner  or 
later." 

The  moon  had  risen,  giving  forth  a  flood  of 
silver  light.  As  Pauline  finished  she  glanced  at 
William's  face  and  found  it  very  pale.  Was  he 
ill,  or  had  something  she  said  strangely  affected 
him. 

Guy  who  had  a  happy  faculty  of  changing 
topics  at  the  right  time,  now  came  in  with  some- 
thing more  entertaining,  and  strove  to  engross 
the  attention  of  both  William  and  Pauline,  until 
their  return.  But  some  strange  spell  seemed  to 
have  come  over  William  Strasmore. 

Alone  in  his  room  he  sat  by  his  bedside  and 
murmured,  "  'All  that  could  be  expected  of  a 
drunkard's  son — his  father  filled  a  drunkard's 
grave, and  he  must  follow  in  his  footsteps. '  Heav- 
en forbid  !  Am  I  safe  ?  No.  Oh,  why  cannot  all 
who  know  this  curse  feel  as  I  do !  Eternal  vigi- 
lance is  the  price  of  safety  to  those  over  whom 
the  curse  of  an  inherited  appetite  hangs.  There 
is  but  one  hope  of  safety  and  that  is  in  the  arms 
of  the  blessed  Master.  While  the  temptation  is 
constantly  before  men  whose  morbid  appetites 
crave  drink,  what  more  can  be  expected  than 
that  they  will  fall. 


36  THE   WORST  FOE. 

"If  all  men  could  see  the  dangerous  precipice 
on  which  they  stand,  we  might  soon  expect  the 
curse  of  intemperance  to  be  wiped  out  from  our 
land ;  but  alas,  all — all  are  blind.  '  'I  will  take 
care  of  myself  and  let  others  do  the  same ;  I  am 
not  my  brother's  keeper  !"  is  too  much  the  prin- 
ciple by  which  this  selfish  world  is  controlled. 
Then  again  there  are  many  people  like  the 
Denesmores,  who  if  they  see  a  fellow-being  on 
the  road  to  ruin,  will  try  to  stay  his  course,  or  if 
in  the  gutter  will  endeavor  to  lift  him  up  and 
make  him  purer  and  better,  to  fit  him  for  use- 
fulness in  this  world  and  for  eternity,  but  they 
never  make  an  effort  to  entirely  remove  the 
destroying  demon  from  the  land. 

"  The  Christian  people  and  temperance  mis- 
sionaries have  worked  as  a  man  would  who, 
standing  on  the  bank  of  a  swollen  stream,  rescuing 
only  an  occasional  one  of  the  thousands  who  are 
floating  down  the  stream  before  him  ;  he  works 
hard  to  save  as  many  as  he  can,  and  never  looks 
up-stream  to  see  how  these  people  got  into  the 
stream  to  be  drowned.  By  and  by  the  thought 
occurs  to  him,  'Something  is  wrong.  I'll  go 
up  along  the  shore  and  see  how  these  people  get 
into  this  river.'  He  does  not  proceed  far  till  he 
finds  a  man  shoving  people  into  the  stream.  He 
takes  a  club  and  knocks  him  over,  and  then  the 
stream  is  cleared  of  drowning  men.  These  drown- 
ing men  are  the  drunkards,  and  the  man  who 


THE    WORST    FOE.  37 

throws  them  in  is  the  saloon  keeper,  and  the  club 
I  would  strike  him  with  is  prohibition.  I'd  pro- 
hibit his  business.  To  license  it  is  to  license  that 
which  leads  to  the  death  of  thousands  ;  hence,  is 
only  one  degree  removed  from  licensing  murder. " 

William  Strasmore  was  a  pronounced  prohibi- 
tionist. He  realized  that  no  one  was  safe  while 
the  deadly  monster  was  alive  and  roaming  at  will 
through  the  land.  He  had  urged  his  views  so 
enthusiastically  on  Guy  that  he  smiled  and  told 
him  not  to  become  a  fanatic.  Guy  thought  he 
was  safe.  He  had  no  acquired  or  inherited  ap- 
petite. It  is  usually  the  men  with  acquired  or 
inherited  appetites  who  make  the  strongest  tem- 
ance  workers.  They  know  their  own  danger 
and  appeal  with  all  the  energy  of  earnest  souls 
to  the  world  for  relief.  To  you  who  think  you 
are  safe,  for  the  love  of  humanity  do  not  turn  a 
deaf  ear  to  their  appeal. 

Pauline,  having  noticed  the  look  of  ashen  hue 
on  the  face  of  her  brother's  friend,  was  alone  in 
her  room  wondering  what  had  caused  it. 

"Was  it  something  I  said  about  Jack  being 
drunk  ?"  she  asked  herself.  "If  I  was  sure  I 
had  wounded  his  feelings  I  would  go  and  ask  his 
pardon — but  no,  I  did  not,  it  is  nonsense  to  think 
so." 

Some  how  she  felt  wretched.  To  admit  the 
truth,  Pauline  had  grown  to  like  the  handsome 
young  stranger  just  the  least  bit,  and  while  her 


38  THE   WORST   FOE. 

tender  heart  would  not  have  given  any  one  pain, 
she  would  not  have  offended  Mr.  Strasmore  for 
anything.  "He  surely  has  pronounced  views  on 
the  liquor  question,"  she  said  to  herself,  "but 
what  are  they  ?"  Her  brother  must  know  and 
on  the  morrow  she  would  ask  him.  Accord- 
ingly, as  soon  as  she  was  alone  with  Guy,  she 
asked:  "Do  you  know  what  Mr.  Strasmore's 
views  are  in  regard  to  temperance?" 

"He  is  prohibition  to  the  core,  "was  the  answer ; 
and  Pauline  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HOME    PLEASURES THE    DEPARTURE. 

"  Go!  fair  example  of  untainted  youth, 
Of  modest  wisdom,  and  pacified  truth, 
Just  of  thy  word,  in  every  thought  sincere, 
Who  knew  no  wish  but  what  the  world  might  bear." 

£ofe. 

TTFHE  vacation  passed  pleasantly  to  the  young 
-*•  folks  at  the  Denesmore  house. 

There  were  social  gatherings,  select  parties, 
picnics,  boating  and  fishing  excursions,  to  en- 
gage their  attention  and  make  the  time  pass 
rapidly.  In  truth,  it  passed  too  rapidly,  for 
before  they  hardly  thought  the  vacation  com- 
menced, it  was  almost  gone.  Days  had  uncon- 
sciously glided  into  weeks,  and  the  delightful 
summer  was  gone.  Three  days  more  and  the 
young  men  will  leave  Staunton  for  college. 

A  slight  shadow  has  come  over  the  household 
as  the  time  of  their  departure  draws  near.  At 
breakfast  there  is  a  lull  in  the  conversation, 
and  even  the  usually  bright  Pauline  seems  sad 
and  gloomy.  The  pleasure  of  planning  new 
excursions  and  new  pastimes  is  gone,  and 
henceforth  the  only  preparation  will  be  the  sad 

39 


4O  THE    WORST    FOE. 

one  for  separation.  Guy  Denesmore,  noticing 
his  sister's  dejected  manner,  said : 

"Well,  Pauline,  what  is  the  order  of  the 
day?" 

"We  have  an  invitation  to  dine  with  the 
Days,"  she  answered  with  an  arch  glance  at 
her  brother.  ' '  I  thought  that  would  be  the 
last  thing  you  would  forget.  Is  it  possible 
Maria  is  so  little  in  your  mind,  or  are  you 
afraid  Mr.  Strasmore  will  win  her  affections 
from  you  ?  " 

Guy  winced  and  said  something  abouV  girls 
always  forming  erroneous  conclusions,  and  finally 
asked : 

' '  What  are  we  to  do  with  ourselves  until  that 
time?" 

' '  Dispose  of  yourselves  as  will  be  most  agreea- 
ble to  yourselves." 

' '  I  want  to  have  a  business  talk  with  you  two 
young  men, ' '  said  Mr.  Denesmore  gravely.  ' '  We 
have  had  considerable  pleasure ;  now  let  us  have 
some  talk  on  business." 

William  Strasmore  was  not  a  little  aston- 
ished, and  Pauline  with  a  laugh  said : 

"  Now,  young  men,  be  prepared  for  some- 
thing awful.  I  don't  understand  it,  and  don't 
want  to,  but  you'll  hear  of  margins,  dividends, 
stocks,  bonds,  mortgages,  and  all  that  interests 
commercial  people.  I'm  not  commercial. " 

If  William   Strasmore   was  astounded  when 


THE   WORST    FOE.  4! 

Mr.  Denesmore  announced  his  desire  for  a 
ousiness  interview  with  him,  he  was  still  more 
astounded  when  they  arrived  at  the  office  of 
that  gentlerrun  and  he  began  to  question  Wil- 
liam  as  to  hifr  future  business  intentions. 

Stra>>moi'c''$  plans  were  not  matured.  He  in- 
tended to  <rr>mplete  his  professional  course,  and 
then  settle  in  some  thriving  Western  town  and 
engage  in  the  practice  of  law. 

"You  have  chosen  no  locality,  have  you?" 

"No,  sir,  that  will  be  easily  enough  done  after 
I  have  completed  my  studies  and  have  the  right 
to  hang  out  my  attorney's  shingle." 

' '  I  do  not  know  that  you  could  do  better  than 
to  locate  in  Staunton,"  said  the  merchant,  after 
a  few  moment's  reflection.  "  I  know  one  firm  of 
old  lawyers  who  I  think  would  like  to  inject 
new  life  and  younger  blood  into  their  business, 
and  when  your  course  of  studies  is  complete,  if 
you  think  such  an  arrangement  would  be  agreea- 
ble to  you,  I  will  try  to  secure  you  a  place  in  the 
firm." 

"This  kindness  is  very  unexpected  from  a 
stranger,  Mr.  Denesmore,  and  I  assure  you  I 
shall  feel  very  grateful  to  you." 

"Do  not  call  me  a  stranger,  William.  You 
are  Guy's  friend,  and  whoever  is  the  friend  of 
my  son  is  my  own  friend.  Besides,  I  propose 
doing  no  more  than  I  would  want  done  for  my 
own  son  under  like  circumstances.  The  posi- 


42  THE  WORST  FOE. 

tion  you  may  secure  in  the  firm  may  not  be  the 
most  favorable  and  not  as  lucrative  as  you  would 
like ;  but  you  can  grow  up  to  a  better  position, 
and  it  will  be  much  better  than  no  start." 

In  company  with  William  Strasmore,  Mr. 
Denesmore  visited  the  Shaw  Brothers,  where 
the  matter  was  mentioned,  and  though  no  plans 
for  the  future  could  be  laid,  the  old  lawyers 
seemed  to  think,  when  the  proper  time  came, 
that  business  arrangements  could  be  made  with 
Mr.  Strasmore. 

Evening  came  and  found  William,  Pauline  and 
Guy  at  the  Day  mansion.  Never  did  Maria  Day 
look  more  beautiful  than  when  Guy  led  her  to 
the  piano,  where  she  for  an  hour  charmed  her 
audience  with  her  matchless  skill.  The  evil 
passions  and  selfishness  lurking  within  the 
beauty  did  not  come  to  view  in  the  presence  of 
Guy  Denesmore.  Her  dark  eyes  sparkled  with 
a  brilliancy  which  seemed  to  rival  the  diamonds 
at  her  fair  throat.  She  was  most  exquisitely 
attired  in  white  tulle  over  satin,  with  corsage 
of  satin,  and  ornaments  of  diamonds  and  pearls, 
and  her  cheeks  flushed  with  pleasure  whea 
Guy  was  at  her  side,  as  if  to  rival  the  rose  in 
her  hair. 

The  contrast  presented  to  the  mind  of  William 
Strasmore  by  the  two  young  ladies  was  not  so 
much  one  of  outward  adornment, — for,  in  taste 
and  skill  in  dress,  Pauline  was  the  equal  of  the 


THE  WORST  FOE.  43 

elegant  Maria  Day, — but  it  was  in  their  whole 
tone  and  manner. 

Maria's  heartless  flippancy  was  in  higher 
favor  with  the  butterflies  of  fashion,  but  Paul- 
ine's moral  earnestness  and  intellectual  style  of 
beauty  were  more  enticing  to  men  of  brains 
— a  beauty  of  soul  that  will  endure  through 
maidenhood,  womanhood,  old  age  and  eternity. 
William  Strasmore  was  a  sensible  young  man, 
and  his  mental  comparison  of  the  young  ladies 
resulted  favorably  to  Pauline.  During  the  eve- 
ning they  found  themselves  alone  in  the  elegant 
conservatory  on  which  Mr.  Day  prided  himself 
so  much. 

They  were  sitting  amid  flowering  shrubs  and 
gorgeous-hued  plants,  when  Pauline,  with  just 
the  least  tinge  of  sadness  in  her  voice,  said  : 

' '  In  less  than  a  week  you  will  be  far  from 
here,  and  amid  quite  different  scenes  from  this" 
— then  added,  with  a  sigh,  ' '  I  am  so  glad  you 
and  brother  will  be  near  each  other.  You  can- 
not get  lonesome." 

"  My  visit  to  Staunton  has  been  the  happiest 
period  of  my  life,"  said  William  enthusiastically. 
"Thanks, to  your  father  and  his  family,  seem  too 
commonplace  to  offer  for  such  enjoyment. " 

' '  We  hope  we  shall  be  honored  again  with 
your  presence  in  the  near  future,"  Pauline 
returned,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  a  slight 
tint  coming  to  her  face.  At  this  moment  the 


44  THE    WORST    FOE. 

face  of  Ernest  Day  might  have  been  seen  glar- 
ing at  them  from  behind  a  green  bower  of  plants 
and  flowering  shrubs.  His  face  was  distorted 
with  only  such  evil  passions  as  jealousy  can 
produce.  But  he  was  behind  William  and  Pau- 
line, and  of  course  was  not  seen.  After  glaring 
for  a  few  moments,  like  a  tiger,  he  crept  away-  to 
nurse  his  wrath,  a  complete  prey  to  the  green- 
eyed  monster. 

"I  have  about  made  arrangements  to  make 
Staunton  my  future  home,"  said  William,  while 
the  jealous  Ernest  Day  was  still  gazing  at 
them.  "  If  I  do,  I  hope  we  will  come  to  know 
«ach  other  better.  In  the  meanwhile,  I  have 
gained  your  father's  permission  to  ask  you  for  a 
friendly  correspondence  while  we  shall  be  sepa- 
rated." 

The  blush  tints  deepened  on  Pauline's  cheeks 
as  she  answered : 

' '  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  hear  from  you,  and 
will — will  answer  promptly." 

She  spoke  so  candidly  and  sincerely  that  she 
made  a  far  more  vivid  impression  on  William 
Strasmore  than  if  her  answer  had  been  the 
bashful,  hesitating  response  of  a  coquette. 
Pauline  felt  very  grateful  to  her  father  for 
interesting  himself  in  her  brother's  friend.  Wil- 
liam Strasmore's  open,  manly  heart  had  won  the 
confidence  and  esteem  of  the  entire  family. 

The    evening    passed    pleasantly   to   all   but 


THE   WORST   FOE.  4£ 

Ernest  Day.  Finding  himself  supplanted  by 
this  young  upstart,  as  he  called  the  student,  he 
roamed  about  the  house  sullen  and  gloomy,  and 
vvas  really  glad  when  the  company  took  their 
leave.  Maria  had  been  too  happy  with  her 
lover  to  notice  the  gloomy  discontent  of  her 
brother.  When  she  had  bowed  the  last  guest 
out  she  returned  to  where  Ernest  lay  on  the 
sofa,  silently  cursing  his  fate. 

"What  a  splendid  evening  this  has  been!" 
she  said. 

' '  Yes,  splendid  for  you — you  look  splendid. " 

"So  I  have  been  told." 

"Don't  talk  to  me." 

"Why?" 

"I've  had  the  d— 1's  own  luck." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  the  sister. 

"Yes,  you  are  so  wrapped  up  in  selfishness- 
you  never  care  how  I  come  on." 

"I  don't  understand  you,  Ernest." 

' '  Always  the  way.  You  are  so  wrapt  up  in 
your  own  affairs  you  never  think  of  me." 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  repeated  Maria, 
considerably  provoked  at  the  tantalizing  manner 
of  her  brother. 

"You  don't?  Don't  you  know  I  always 
thought  I  had  a  right  to  Pauline?  and  didn't 
you  see  that  milk-sop,  that  doughface  Stras- 
more  engaging  her  attention  all  the  time  ?  " 

' '  But  he  leaves  soon,  and  then  you  will  have 


46"  ~HE   WORST   FOE. 

the  field  all  to  yourself,"  said  Maria  encourag- 
ingly. 

"Yes,  but  he  does  not  go  soon  enough." 

"Why?" 

"He  has  arranged  to  keep  up  a  correspond- 
ence with  her  all  the  time  he  will  be  absent,  and 
by  the  time  he  returns  the  courtship  will  be  over 
and  betrothal  complete." 

' '  You  are  out  of  sorts  to-night,  brother ;  let 
me  send  for  some  wine — that  always  quiets 
your  nerves." 

"  Brandy  would  do  better,  but  as  you  want 
wine  send  for  it." 

The  wine  was  brought,  and  while  Maria  filled 
the  glasses,  she  informed  her  brother  that  she 
and  Guy  were  getting  along  splendidly,  and 
though  he  would  be  absent  from  her,  she  was 
to  hear  from  him  at  least  once  a  week  during  his 
absence. 

"Why  didn't  you  offer  your  guests  some  of 
this  kind  of  refreshment,  Maria,"  asked  Ernest, 
holding  up  his  glass  of  wine  to  admire  the  rich 
color  by  gaslight. 

' '  Guy  told  me  not  to,  and  I  thought  it  best  to 
obey  his  request  for  the  present." 

"That's  new,  is  it  not?  Though  he  never 
indulges,  I  never  knew  him  to  forbid  its  use 
before." 

' '  The  chief  objection  is  on  Mr.  Strasmore's 
account.  Guy  says  he  is  so  sensitive  about  the 


THE    WORST    FOE.  47 

use  of  intoxicating  liquors,  that  he  would  be 
offended  if  they  were  offered  to  him  in  any 
form." 

"Just  like  the  fool  I  took  him  to  be.  I  wish 
I  had  known  it.  I  would  have  offered  him 
brandy  instead  of  wine. " 

' '  And  received  a  lecture  in  return  ?  " 

' '  Then  I  would  have  passed  the  hat  and  taken 
up  a  collection  for  him — insisted  on  his  starting 
a  camp-meeting,  you  know." 

' '  Guy  says  he  talks  better  on  temperance  than 
any  lecturer  he  ever  heard." 

' '  Let  him  come  again,  and  I  will  give  him 
abundant  opportunity  to  lecture  me." 

"  Surely  you  would  not  offend  Guy,  Ernest?" 

"  Give  me  a  chance  and  see.     He  need  not 

let  that  fellow  make  such  a  fool  of  him  as  that." 

Ernest  Day  was  in  no  enviable  mood,  and 

Maria  left  him  alone  and  retired  to  her  own 

room  to  rejoice  alone. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    PICNIC. 

"  On  morning  wings  how  active  springs  the  mind 
That  leaves  the  load  of  yesterday  behind." 

MARIA  could  no  longer  accuse  her  brother  of 
being  negligent  in  his  attentions  to  Pauline 
Denesmore.  When  William  and  Guy  were 
gone,  he  became  all  attention  to  her,  and  being 
genteel  and  refined  when  he  chose,  made  him- 
self quite  an  agreeable  companion.  Sin  is  not 
always  coarse  and  repulsive,  for  Satan  can  mask 
himself  in  any  guise.  Do  not  think  all  villains 
are  rough  and  uncouth ;  far  from  it.  They  are 
as  apt  to  appear  like  gentlemen  as  like  vagabonds. 
Everybody  was  astonished  to  find  Ernest 
Day  becoming  a  regular  church-goer.  He  even 
became  a  member  of  the  Sabbath  School  and 
took  a  deep  interest  in  its  prosperity.  Pauline, 
as  well  as  others,  noticed  this  great  change,  and 
rejoiced  at  it,  as  the  good  always  rejoice  over 
the  return  of  a  sinner,  and  openly  encouraged 
him  in  every  possible  way  she  could.  Being  of 
a  religious  temperament,  and  having  had  the 
best  religious  training,  she  was  always  ready  to 

48 


THE   WORST   FOE.  49 

welcome  any  new  convert  to  her  Master's  cause. 
Her  friendly  hand  and  re-assuring  smile  had 
brought  more  than  one  timid  child  into  the 
Sabbath  School.  There  was  very  little  selfish- 
ness in  Pauline's  nature,  and  she  seemed  the 
essence  of  purity.  She  labored  ardently  in  her 
Master's  cause,  and  was  as  nearly  perfect  as  it  is 
possible  for  the  sinful  mortals  of  this  world 
to  be. 

' '  Why  cannot  all  do  right  for  right's  sake  ?  " 
she  frequently  inquired  of  herself.  "It  is  so 
much  more  pleasant  to  do  right  than  wrong, 
and  yet  blind,  erring  mortals  will  imagine  that 
by  doing  wrong  they  can  increase  the  measure 
of  their  own  happiness." 

Did  she  stop  at  that  moment  to  ask  herself  if 
Ernest  Day's  conversion  was  doing  right  for 
right's  sake  ?  Perhaps  not,  for  Pauline  was  not 
one  to  judge  another  harshly.  Her  joys  and 
hopes  were  all  centered  in  enabling  others,  as 
far  as  lay  in  her  power,  to  come  into  the  full 
knowledge  of  the  blessed  truth  and  happiness 
which  she  enjoyed. 

The  Sabbath  School  decided  to  give  an  ex- 
cursion and  picnic  for  the  children  at  a  beautiful 
grove  a  few  miles  down  the  river.  They  were 
to  take  the  train  to  the  steamboat  landing,  and 
thence  by  steamer  until  they  reached  the 
picnic  ground,  and  return  in  the  evening 
by  another  boat.  What  child's  cheeks  do 

(4) 


THE  WORST  FOE. 

not  redden  and  eyes  brighten  at  the  prospect  of 
a  picnic  ?  How  welcome  the  woods  in  all  their 
beauty,  the  swings  and  hammocks,  the  frolics 
on  the  grass  or  among  the  mossy  trunks  of  old 
trees  that  have  stood  for  ages!  Parents,  too, 
renew  their  youth  by  joining  in  these  healthful 
sports  with  their  children. 

Older  people  seem  to  find  enjoyment  in  the 
pleasure  they  provide  for  the  children,  and  the 
toil  and  hardship  of  the  preparation  are  for- 
gotten. A  picnic  is  a  pleasure  that  will  live  in 
the  memory  of  childhood  long  after  other  events 
have  faded  into  oblivion. 

Ernest  made  himself  indispensable  in  the 
preparations,  and  during  the  excursion  many 
wondered  why  one  so  useful  had  always  kept 
himself  aloof  from  such  work.  He  should 
never  fall  into  the  background  again  if  they 
could  help  it. 

The  long-expected  day  came,  clear  and  bright. 
The  sky  was  almost  cloudless,  only  a  few  fleecy 
fragments  floating  amid  heaven,  forced  along  by 
a  gentle  breeze.  The  dewdrops  sparkled  like 
diamonds  on  the  clover  leaves,  and  flowers 
were  blooming  everywhere.  Children  were  all 
on  hand  with  bright,  happy  faces,  each  in  full 
anticipation  of  a  day  of  happiness.  It  was  so 
pleasant  to  get  away  from  the  hot,  dusty  town 
and  spend  a  day  in  the  delightful,  cooling  shade. 

The  train  was   crowded  with   gay,   prattling 


THE   WORST   FOE.  5 1 

children,  and  sped  away  from  the  town  to  the 
steamboat  landing.  There  a  large  steamer,  the 
"  Belle  Knapp,"  was  waiting  at  the  landing  for 
them.  The  gang-plank  was  thrown  out,  and  in 
double  file  the  boys  and  girls  marched  aboard 
after  their  respective  teachers, 

"I  have  no  class  to  conduct  to-day,  Pauline," 
said  Ernest,  with  a  smile,  which  he  intended  to 
be  amiable;  "let  me  share  your  duties  and 
anxieties." 

"Of  course,  Mr.  Day,  with  pleasure." 

He  walked  aboard  at  her  side,  and  many 
thought  they  made  a  very  handsome  couple, 
as  they  marched  at  the  head  of  Pauline's  class. 

All  were  aboard,  and  the  boat,  with  her 
precious  freight,  steamed  down  the  river. 
Soon  the  rocks  pressed  the  banks  on  either 
side,  forming  a  great  stone  wall  to  hold  the 
waters  in.  The  bluffs  rose  so  high  they  seemed 
to  kiss  the  heavens,  with  occasional  breaks, 
where  noisy  little  streams,  like  children  just 
let  out  from  school,  burst  forth  into  the  great 
river.  Two  of  these  laughing  streamlets  came 
rippling  down  their  narrow  channels,  gay  and 
joyous,  like  twin  sisters  joining  hand  in  hand, 
babbling  and  laughing  on  until  they  reach 
the  great,  silent,  majestic  river,  whose  ciy- 
rent  they  go  to  swell.  'Tis  so  in  childhood ; 
we  go  laughing  on  until  we  reach  the  majestic 


52  THE    WORST    FOE. 

waters  of  mature  age,  and  all  gayety  seems  sud- 
denly to  have  become  silenced  by  deeper  thought 
or  more  quiet  enjoyment 

Trees  could  be  seen  on  the  crest  of  the  bluff 
high  above  them,  asserting  their  right  to  exist- 
ence and  beauty  above  the  majestic  river. 
They  stood  so  high  in  the  air  that  their  gnarled, 
knotted  trunks  seemed  but  tiny  things.  Large 
birds  could  be  seen  soaring  about  them, and  on  the 
topmost  branches  of  one  an  eagle  alighted.  The 
children  saw  the  birds,  and  wondered  if  their 
heads  did  not  grow  dizzy  at  such  a  height 
But  the  recollection  that  cool,  inviting  shades 
awaited  them  farther  down  the  river,  drove  all 
else  out  of  their  mind.  There  was  no  boy  ad- 
venturous enough  to  wish  to  scale  that  cliff. 

Passing  beyond  those  tall  walls  the  river 
widened,  and  the  bluffs  on  either  side  became 
broken  and  irregular,  forming  a  mass  of  rocky 
hills  and  deep  ravines,  sometimes  assuming  gro- 
tesque shapes  and  presenting  a  picturesque  scene. 
They  passed  an  island  where  some  fishermen  had 
kindled  a  fire — the  blue  smoke  ascending  in  bil- 
lows and  losing  itself  in  space.  The  boats  of 
the  fishermen  could  be  seen  lying  on  the  sand, 
and  the  fishermen  themselves  could  be  seen  sit- 
ting near  the  camp-fire,  smoking  pipes.  Further 
on  they  came  to  fields  of  grain.  Some  was  cut 
find  in  the  stack,  awaiting  the  threshing  machine, 
and  across  one  field  could  be  heard  the  din  of  the 


THE    WORST   FOE.  53 

machine,  and  the  cloud  of  dust  could  be  seen 
hovering  over  the  scene,  through  which  could 
be  caught  glimpses  of  the  workmen. 

Farther  on  are  neat  farm  buildings,  the  farmers 
busy  at  work,  heedless  of  the  magnificent  steamer 
which  ploughs  the  water  in  her  course.  Then 
farther  on  the  scene  changes  to  green  pastures, 
with  sober  cows  and  frolicsome  calves  and  play- 
ful colts,  for  whom  days  of  labor  had  not 
dawned.  The  colts  became  alarmed  at  the 
purring  monster  on  the  river,  and  gazing  at 
it  a  moment  in  startled  terror,  wheeled  about 
with  snorts  of  fear,  which  put  the  calves  to 
flight,  despite  the  assuring  "moo's"  of  the 
dams,  and  scampered  over  the  hill  out  of  sight. 

Pauline  gathered  the  children  together,  and 
their  sweet  voices  were  soon  mingled  in  songs  of 
praise  to  Him  who  gives  us  all  good  gifts. 

"Let  our  hearts  be  always  cheerful 
Why  should  sorrow  enter  there, 

When  our  kind  and  loving  Father 
Makes  us  children  of  His  care. 

Always  cheerful,  always  happy,  Sunshine  all  about  we  see, 
Full  of  beauty  our  path  of  duty,Cheerful  we  should  ever  be. 

"When  we  turn  aside  from  duty 
Comes  the  pain  of  doing  wrong, 

And  a  shadow  creeping  o'er  us 
Checks  the  rapture  of  our  song." 

Many  a  rough  boatman  who  had  not  heard  the 
voices  of  children  in  praise  for  years  listened  at- 


54  THE   WORST   FOE. 

tentively  to  the  song  and  heaved  a  sigh  for  the 
days  when  he  was  young  and  sinless  as  these 
children. 

The  day  at  the  grove  was  spent  as  picnics 
usually  are,  in  innocent  open  air  amusements, 
and  the  children  were  heartily  tired  when  the 
boat  came  to  take  them  back  up  the  river. 

All  are  once  more  aboard,  steaming  up  the 
river.  The  children  are  running  about  the  deck 
and  the  older  people  are  gathered  about  in  groups 
chatting  pleasantly.  Ernest  Day  and  Pauline 
sit  apart  from  the  others,  and  his  fine  face  glows 
with  pride  while  his  low,  gentle  voice  begins  to 
breathe  in  her  ear  a  story  old  but  ever  new. 

A  shriek  interrupts  him  and  startles  every 
one  on  board  that  boat. 

"Oh  God,  my  child — my  child  !  overboard." 

It  was  an  appealing  cry  answered  by  the  shrieks 
of  hundreds  of  others,  and  a  rush  was  made  te 
the  steamer's  side.  Freddie  Stevens  was  dis- 
covered struggling  in  the  waters,  as  he  was  borne 
down  the  current. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HUM  DID  NOT  DO  THIS  !  SOME  OF  ITS  WORK. 

''But  thou,  false  guardian  of  a  charge  so  good, 
Thou  mean  deserter  of  thy  brother's  blood  ! 
See  on  these  ruby  lips  the  trembling  breath, 
Those  cheeks  now  fading  at  the  blast  of  death." 

—Pope. 

LIKE  a  flash  Ernest  Day's  coat  was  thrown 
aside  and  plunging  into  the  turbid  waters  he 
was  swimming  toward  the  sinking  child  before 
any  one  could  recover  from  the  shock  the  acci- 
dent had  produced.  Every  eye  aboard  that  boat 
w?tched  the  strong,  bold  swimmer,  and  from  every 
heart  there  ascended  a  prayer  to  Heaven.  The 
mother  was  insensible  and  her  friends  were  mak- 
ing fruitless  efforts  to  restore  her. 

When  the  first  feeling  of  horror  and  consterna- 
tion had  passed,  cheer  after  cheer  went  up  to 
encourage  Ernest  Day  in  his  noble  effort.  He 
was  as  brave  as  a  lion,  and,  although  he  shared 
ti*e  family  selfishness,  we  find  him  engaged  in  a 
generous  act.  If  the  heart  of  Ernest  Day  could 
have  been  read  aright,  those  beholders  who  so 
loudly  applauded  his  bravery,  would  have  read 
nothing  but  selfishness  there.  He  rejoiced  that 

55 


56  THE   WORST   FOE. 

the  accident  had  given  him  an  opportunity  to 
display  his  courage  and  skill  before  so  many 
people.  The  newspapers  would  be  full  of  the 
rescue,  and  he  would  be  quite  a  hero.  It  might 
also  help  him  in  securing  Miss  Denesmore's 
heart  and  hand. 

Ernest  was  a  strong,  bold  swimmer  and 
reached  the  child  just  as  he  was  going  down  a 
second  time,  and  winding  one  arm  about  him 
managed  to  keep  his  head  above  water  until  a 
boat,  which  had  been  immediately  lowered,  could 
pull  to  them.  The  great  paddle  wheels  had  been 
stopped  and  the  steamer  drove  slowly  forward 
from  the  force  of  the  headway  she  had  gained, 
which  gradually  grew  less  until  it  floated  quietly 
down  the  stream.  All  Ernest  had  to  do  was  to 
ride  the  waves  beat  up  by  the  ponderous  paddles 
and  keep  himself  and  the  child  afloat  until  the 
boat  came  along  side,  and  they  were  lifted  into 
it. 

"The  child  is  safe,"  cried  Ernest  Day  from 
the  boat  where  he  held  the  dripping  form  of 
Freddie  Stevens  who  was  rapidly  regaining  his 
consciousness. 

A  shout — a  wild  cheer  went  up  from  the  deck 
of  the  boat  which  even  aroused  the  dull  senses 
of  that  swooning  mother.  She  was  told  again 
and  again  that  her  child  was  safe,  and  beyond  a 
doubt  it  helped  to  restore  her  to  consciousness. 
Rescuer  and  rescued  were  lifted  to  the  deck,  and 


THE    WORST   FOE.  57 

the  child,  more  frightened  than  hurt,  hastened  to 
his  mother.  After  allowing  his  well  soaked 
clothes  to  drip,  Ernest  donned  a  coat  the  cap- 
tain furnished  him  and  started  to  find  Pauline,  to- 
receive  her  praise  for  his  courage  and  skill.  At 
this  moment  his  young  brother  Mark  came  up 
and  in  his  usual  impulsive  manner  said : 

"Ern.,you  did  nobly, but  you  may  thank  Pau- 
line Denesmore  that  you  didn't  have  a  dram 
ahead,  and  drown  both  yourself  and  Freddie 
Stevens." 

"Hush,  Mark!"  said  Ernest,  considerably 
-mbarrassed. 

"Oh,  you  needn't  say  hush,  I  know  what  I 
am  talking  about.  You  know  when  father  asked 
you  to  drink  this  morning,  you  refused,  for  fear 
the  ladies  would  smell  it  on  your  breath.  Father 
said  there  might  be  an  accident  and  you  would 
need  something  to  strengthen  your  nerves ;  but 
you  saved  Freddie  any  way  and  rum  did  not  do 
it.  I  wonder  what  father  will  think  about  it; — 
any  way  rum  did  not  do  it." 

'  'Shut  up,  you  little  chatter-box, "  cried  Ernest 
Day,  feeling  inclined  to  slap  his  brother,  more 
especially  when  he  discovered  that  Miss  Denes- 
more  had  been  near  enough  to  hear  every  word 
he  said.  "Miss  Denesmore,  pay  no  attention 
to  this  boy,  he  is  incorrigible,"  said  Ernest  to 
Pauline,  by  way  of  apology. 

"You  know  it's  so,   Ern,"    cried  Mark  as  he 


58  THE    WORST    FOE. 

started  away  to  another  part  of  the  boat.  "If 
you  had  taken  one  dram  you'd  a  wanted  more, 
and  you're  such  an  infernal  lubber  when  yon  are 
full,  you'd  a  gone  down  certain — " 

"  Ernest  could  stand  this  no  longer.  He  started 
in  pursuit  of  his  mischievous  brother,  but  Mark 
had  quickly  disappeared  in  the  crowd,  and  turn- 
ing to  Pauline,  whose  face  bore  a  look  of  mingled 
pleasure  and  pain,  he  said : 

"Pay  no  attention  to  what  that  chattering  boy 
says,  Miss  Dencsmore — you  surely  know  Mark. " 

The  congratulations  and  words  of  praise  Pau- 
line had  for  the  rescuer  of  little  Freddie  Stevens 
died  on  her  lips. 

When  she  reached  home  that  evening  and  had 
related  the  incidents  of  the  day,  she  told  what 
she  had  heard  Mark  say  to  his  brother.  ' '  M  other, 
can  it  be  possible  that  any  father  will  urge  his  son 
to  do  a  thing  which  may  destroy  his  soul  as  well 
as  his  body?" 

"It  is  possible,  Pauline.  There  are  whiskey 
fanatics  as  well  as  temperance  fanatics.  There 
are  strange  people  in  the  world,  Pauline.  Par- 
ents do  encourage  their  children  in  wickedness. 
Mr.  Day  has  been  a  determined  opponent  of 
churches  and  temperance  reforms,  and  has  gone 
to  an  opposite  extreme,  as  he  says,  to  keep  these 
fanatics  level." 

'  'What  will   he  think   when  Mark  tells 
rum  did  not  do  this  ?" 


1HE    WORST    FOE.  59 

"He  will  probably  say  rum  did  not  prevent  it, 
and  make  Mark  take  a  drink  of  it  to  show  that 
the  temperance  reformer  in  his  household  is  no 
better  than  the  others." 

"Oh,  mother — make  Mark  drink?" 

"Yes.  my  dear,  perhaps  pour  it  down  him, 
men  have  done  so.  Nothing  so  rejoices  the  ene- 
mies of  temperance  as  to  see  one  of  those  pro- 
fessing its  cause,  fall :  it  proves  how  impractica- 
ble temperance  is." 

"Such  a  parent — his  child  should  be  taken 
away  from  him." 

"That  is  impossible,  Pauline.  Mr.  Day  is  a 
wealthy,  powerful  man,  and  society  and  the  law 
uphold  him." 

"If  Ernest  were  only  free  from  the  evils  of  in- 
temperance he  would  make  a  noble  man,  and  I 
shall  do  all  in  my  power  to  save  him." 

"Do,  my  dear,"  said  her  mother. 

In  the  meanwhile  Mark  Day  had  reached  his 
home,  and  in  his  noisy,  blustering  way  burst  into 
the  sitting-room  where  his  mother  and  sister  were 
sitting  and  began : 

"There's  been  a  regular  catastrophe,"  and 
throwing  his  hat  on  the  floor  placed  himself  on 
the  sofa. 

"What  was  it?"  both  Maria  and  his  mother 
asked. 

"Humph!  don't  you  wish  you  had  gone," 
said  Mark  in  his  usual  tantalizing  way.  "Sun- 


6O  THE    WORST    FOE. 

day-school  picnics  are  not  so  bad  after  all  when 
they  kick  up  such  a  lively  racket  as  we  had  to- 
day." 

"I  don't  believe  it  was  anything  at  all,"  cried 
Maria  petulantly. 

"You  don't — well,  you'd  a  died  if  you'd  a 
been  there,  or  fainted  any  way  if  some  young 
fellow'd  been  by  to  catch  you  in  his  arms.  You 
could  have  had  a  nice  time,  for  Mr.  Smith  was 
along,  and  he'll  soon  be  looking  about  for  some 
body  to  take  care  of  his  flock  of  children  for  his 
wife  is  about  dead  with  consumption." 

"Shut  up,   Mark." 

"Oh,  don't  try  to  shut  up  a  boy  when  he's  just 
got  on  a  good  head  of  steam,  you  know  a  boiler 
might  burst  or  something  happen.  Say,  Maria, 
how  would  you  like  to  be  stepmother  to  half  a 
dozen  children." 

"Leave  the  room — you  are  odious,"  cried 
Maria,  "you  are  hateful,  you  unnerve  me." 

"Don't  get  worried  sis,  it  spoils  your  beauty. 
There's  crow's  feet  under  your  eyes,  and  I  don't 
know  even  now  whether  you  can  get  Smith  or 
not." 

'  'Mark — leave  the  room  until  you  can  behave 
yourself  and  say  what  you  have  got  to  say, "  said 
Mrs.  Day. 

"All  right,  mother,  it  shall  not  be  said  that  I 
am  a  disobedient  son  ;  but  as  people  should  retain 
their  worldly  possessions,  I'll  take  my  hat  and 


THE   WORST   FOE.  6 1 

give  you  and  Maria  a  chance  to  cool  off,  then  I'll 
come  in  and  tell  you  all  about  it. "  Stooping,  he 
took  his  hat  from  the  floor  and  went  out  into  the 
hall,  where  a  moment  later  he  could  be  heard 
singing : 

"If  invited  to  drink  should  I  sternly  say  no, 

Or  should  I  comply  to  show  my  good  nature ; 
And  if  I  partake — how  far  should  I  go, 

How  much  and  how  oft  must  I  take  of  the  creature. 
But  whether  is  rum,  gin  or  brandy  the  best, 

As  each  has  the  spirit  to  make  a  boy  frisky, 
And  yet  all  the  liquors  when  put  to  the  test, 

Could  never  compare  with  a  drop  of  good  whiskey." 

"But  whiskey  too  often  produces  its  fools, 

And  sullies  the  fame  of  our  nation, 
Drug  stores  and  saloons  have  been  the  cursed  schools, 

Where  villains  have  finished  their  vice  education. 
And  so  after  all  I'm  beginning  to  think, 

That  if  we  could  soberly  look  at  the  matter, 
We'd  denounce  and  protest  against  drunk  making  drink, 

And  try  the  effects  of  pure  thirst-quenching  water. " 

Having  tantalized  his  mother  and  sister  to  hia 
own  satisfaction,  for  Mark  knew  '  'they  were  dy- 
ing to  know  what  had  happened,"  he  re-entered 
the  room  and  told  them  of  the  accident,  how 
Ernest  had  rescued  the  drowning  child. 

"Yes,  Ern  did  nobly,"  said  Mark,  "I  felt 
proud  of  him  when  every  body  was  calling  him 
a  hero.  But  who  do  you  think  deserves  the 
praise,  he  or  Pauline?" 

'  'Pauline  ?  What  did  she  have  to  do  with  res- 
cuing the  child?" asked  his  mother. 


62  THE   WORST   FOE. 

"More'n  you  suspect,  mother.  You  see,  Ern 
would'nt  drink  this  morning,  for  fear  Pauline 
would  smell  his  breath,  and  you  know  Ern.  If 
he  had  taken  one  dram,  he'd  not  stopped  short 
of  six,  and  would  have  been  so  stupified  that  he 
could' nt  have  saved  Freddie  at  all.  I  heard 
many  say  there  wasn't  another  man  aboard 
the  boat  that  could  have  done  it.  It  took  all  hi& 
strength  and  a  clear  head  to  prevent  there  being 
a  first  class  funeral  or  two.  'I  tell  you  I  was  so 
proud  of  Ern  that  I  reminded  him  it  wasn't  rum 
that  did  it." 

"Oh,  Mark,  you  are  so  foolish,"  cried  Maria, 
impatiently.  "That  made  no  difference.  Pau- 
line keep  him  from  taking  his  morning  dram  ? 
Well,  not  much,  I  guess.  He  did  not  drink  be- 
cause he  did  not  want  to — that's  all." 

"You  can  just  bet  you're  mistaken,  "said  Mark, 
with  a  toss  of  his  head  and  shrug  of  his  shoul- 
ders. "Ern  thinks  a  sight  of  Pauline,  and  while 
he's  pretending  to  be  so  pious  and  all  that,  to  get 
her,  he's  not  going  to  let  her  smell  liquor  on  his 
breath.  He  knows  his  cake  will  be  dough 
whenever  he  does  that.  But  there's  no  use  to 
talk  with  ma  and  Maria  when  their  heads  are 
set,"  and  with  this  philosophical  conclusion  he 
donned  his  hat  and  once  more  left  the  room. 

Ernest  Day  did  not  make  his  appearance  at  his 
home  that  night,  but  that  was  nothing  unusual 
for  him.  His  mother  would  very  much  have 


THE   WORST   FOE.  63 

liked  to  see  him,  for  with  all  her  weak  selfishness 
she  was  proud  of  her  son.  She  sat  up  until 
twelve  o'clock  waiting  for  him,  and  then,  as  he 
did  not  come,  she  went  to  bed. 

When  Ernest  reached  the  depot  on  his  return, 
his  brain  was  in  a  whirl.  He  went  to  the  house 
of  a  friend  and  changed  his  clothes  for  a  dry  suit 
which  he  purchased  in  the  town,  and  sat  down  a 
moment  in  deep  meditation.  Oh,  Pauline,  if 
you  could  have  read  that  dark  heart  on  the  night 
you  were  praising  Ernest  Day's  valor,  your  sleep 
would  not  have  been  so  sweet.  It  was  full  of 
scheming,  treachery  and  danger. 

"I  must  do  it,  and  I  will  commence  to-night, " 
he  said  at  last,  starting  up.  "I  can  put  a  lock 
on  her  mouth  and  then  throw  the  key  away." 
He  hurried  out  into  the  street,  bent  on  some 
mission  which  boded  some  one  no  good. 

A  few  moments  later  he  was  seated  in  Joe 
Hammond's  restaurant.  Opposite  him  was  a 
youth,  a  few  years  his  junior.  The  refreshments 
Were  untasted  at  their  side,  and  they  were  en- 
gaged in  an  earnest  conversation. 

'  'I  tell  you,  George,  there  is  no  need  to  be  a 
stickler  for  duty.  It's  all  well  enough  to  look 
after  affairs  when  your  father  is  incapable  of 
doing  it  himself.  I  respect  you  for  the  regard 
you  have  for  your  mother  and  sister  ;  but  it  is  too 
much  of  a  sacrifice." 

"Don't  talk  about  this  being  a  sacrifice,"  said 


•64  THE   WORST   FOE. 

George  warmly.  "Every  one  in  this  life  has 
his  peculiar  duty  to  perform.  By  strong  en- 
deavor the  most  irksome  duty  may  become  a 
pleasure.  This  is  a  sacred  duty.  Were  I  to 
forsake  my  pale-faced,  heart-broken  mother  and 
throw  all  this  responsibility  on  my  sister 
Deena,  who  now  has  more  than  she  can  bear,  I 
would  not  be  worthy  the  name  of  son  or  brother. 
You  once  professed  to  love  my  sister,  now  how 
can  you  advise  such  a  course.  Are  you  a  villain 
and  do  you  want  to  ruin  us  all  ?" 

George  Hammond  spoke  hotly  and  for  a  mo- 
ment Ernest  Day's  face  flushed  with  anger. 
He  sat  plucking  his  moustache  while  he  allowed 
his  passion  to  cool,  then  he  replied : 

"I  would  not  take  such  from  another,  George, 
but  I  am  a  friend  of  youjs  and  only  have  your 
good  in  view.  I  once  did  love  your  sister,  but 
as  was  predicted  it  only  proved  a  short-lived, 
boyish  passion,  While  I  respect  her  highly,  we 
are  only  friends.  But  you  are  too  talented  to 
remain  bound  down  in  a  small  restaurant  acting 
in  your  father's  place.  Prof.  Kirke  says  he  se- 
cured you  a  desirable  position  as  book-keeper  in 
a  wholesale  establishment,  but  you  refused  it. 
He  was  disappointed  in  his  student  treating  his 
overtures  and  offers  of  kindness  with  such  con- 
tempt" 

"I  ought  to  have  explained  matters  to  the 
Professor,  but  that  is  very  difficult  to  do.  To 


THE   WORST   FOE.  65 

you  I  can  talk  freely,  as  you  have  been  here  sev- 
eral times  when  father  was  almost  unmanageable, 
and —  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  go  into  details. 
I  must  see  Prof.  Kirke  and  try  to  explain  mat- 
ters. I  want  to  set  myself  right  before  my 
friends,  and  hope  circumstances  may  so  change 
in  the  future  that  I  may  be  able  to  avail  myself 
of  their  kind  offers." 

"No,  George,  I  would  not  explain — it's  not 
necessary.  By  your  judicious  management  of 
affairs  you  can  soon  rise  above  all  this,  and  when 
you  have  gained  the  place  marked  out  for  you 
by  your  friends,  they  will  understand,  and  ap- 
preciate you  the  more  because  it  was  done  by 
your  own  exertions.  Proof  is  better  than  words. 
But  why  can't  you  attend  to  your  father's  affairs 
here,  and  at  the  same  time  work  up  some  busi- 
ness of  your  own  ?  What  are  your  plans  for 
the  future?" 

' '  We  want  to  get  out  of  debt,  and  then  scrape 
together  enough  to  go  West.  There,  on  a  quiet 
farm,  where  father  will  be  removed  from  these 
temptations,  we  have  hope  of  his  reformation, 
He  will  never  reform  here,  where  the  tempta- 
tion is  constantly  before  him.  Deena  can  teach 
Lillie,  and  if  we  are  fifteen  miles  from  our  near- 
est neighbor,  and  seventy-five  miles  from  a  town, 
it  will  be  that  much  the  better." 

"Your  plan  is  a  good  one,  George,  and  I  hope 

(6) 


66  THE    WORST    FOE. 

it  may  work.     But,  .come — you  have  a  few  idle 
moments — let  us  take  a  stroll." 

George  Hammond  consented.  Better,  far  bet- 
ter, would  it  have  been  to  have  taken  a  stroll  in 
the  jungle,  with  a  hungry  tiger  for  his  companion. 
Oh,  will  not  some  pitying  angel  whisper  a  word 
of  warning  to  this  unfortunate  youth  ?  Are  you 
blind,  George  Hammond,  that  you  do  not  see  the 
look  of  fiendish  triumph  in  Ernest  Day's  eyes  as 
he  leads  you  forth  into  the  streets  ?  The  lamps 
light  up  the  street  below,  and  the  moon  throws 
a  silver  sheen  on  the  roofs  above  them.  George 
Hammond  felt  a  restless  longing  at  his  heart  for 
something  higher,  better  and  different.  His  con- 
science has  never  yet  had  occasion  to  upbraid 
him.  It  is  a  very  tender  conscience — not  more 
calloused  than  an  infant's  hand,  but  goaded  to 
madness  it  will  rise  and  sit  in  condemning  judg- 
ment over  him. 

During  the  long  walk,  the  oily  tongue  of  the  wily 
schemer  was  gradually  overcoming  the  scruples  of 
his  victim,  and  paving  the  way  for  his  ruin.  At 
length,  they  came  to  a  halt  in  front  of  a  brilliantly- 
lighted  saloon.  The  soft  strains  of  music  came  from 
within,  and  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  entice  the 
youth  to  enter,  just  to  see  what  was  going  on. 
Only  the  better  classes  were  to  be  found  here — 
it  was  one  of  those  places  where  the  devil  pre- 
pares his  kindling  wood.  Many  people  are  in 
favor  of  a  temperance  law  that  will  close  up  the 
"low  dives" — the  haunts  of  the  abandoned 


THE   WORST   FOE.  O? 

drunkards.  It  would  be  much  better,  if  only  one 
class  of  drinking  places  is  to  be  prohibited,  to 
strike  out  those  gilded  places  where  young  men 
begin  to  drink  in  a  respectable  (?)  way,  and 
there  form  an  appetite  that  soon  passes  them 
along  down  the  line,  to  less  and  still  less  respec- 
table places,  till  they  reach  the  lowest  outpost 
of  satan. 

The  two  young  men  sauntered,  arm  in  arm, 
down  the  brilliant,  gilded  hall,  stopping  a  mo- 
ment here  and  there  to  watch  a  game  of  bil- 
liards, or  cards.  All  the  while  Ernest  kept  up 
a  lively  conversation,  in  an  off-hand  manner,  with 
the  many  acquaintances  he  met,  frequently  pre- 
senting his  friend,  "Mr.  Hammond." 

This  small  flattery  began  to  tell  on  George 
Hammond,  and  before  he  hardly  knew  it,  he 
was  seated  at  a  table,  drinking  champagne  and 
playing  cards.  He  was  flattered  to  be  among 
aristocratic  people,  and  even  ventured  to  put 
up  money,  in  a  small  way,  to  be  equal  with  the 
others.  He  won,  and  elated  with  success,  he 
drank  more,  and  doubled  stakes,  and  won  each 
time.  Dawn  was  just  appearing  in  the  east 
when  they  emerged  from  that  gilded  hell. 

' '  Be  sure  and  meet  me  here  again  to-night, 
George,"  said  Ernest  anxiously.  "I  want  you 
to  give  me  an  opportunity  to  win  a  part  of  this 
back."  George  promised,  and  turned  his  steps 
homeward,  his  brain  in  a  whirl,  and  the  whis- 


68  THE   WORST   FOE. 

pered  words  of  satan's  flattery  in  his  ears. 
"You  won,  George,"  the  demon  said.  "You 
are  shrewder  than  the  shrewdest;  now  go  in, 
win  more,  get  rich  and  live  a  merry  life. " 

Ernest  Day,  perfectly  sober,  was  walking  in  a 
different  direction.    His  scheming  mind  was  busy, 
and  he  was  congratulating  himself  on  his  success. 
He  drew  his  coat  close  about  him,  for  the  morn 
ing  air  was  chilly,  and  began  to  soliloquize : 

*'So,  George  Hammond,  you  have  been  gam- 
bling. I  wonder  how  your  mother  would  like 
the  expression,  '  You  are  pinned  to  your  mother 
no  longer,  but  a  fast  young  man  of  the  world. '  I 
despise  such  a  fool  as  George  Hammond,  and 
such  a  fogy  as  Strasmore.  I  will  make  a  cat's 
paw  of  the  one,  and  the  other  may  yet  learn 
what  it  is  to  cross  my  path." 

There  was  a  look  at  that  moment  on  the  face 
of  Ernest  Day  which  would  have  frightened  a. 
timid  person. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ONLY    ELEVEN    MONTHS. 

"Vice  is  a  monster  of  »o  frightful  mien 
As,  to  hi  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen  ; 
Yet  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace." 

— Pope. 

£(  TTIND  your  business.     I'll  go  where  I  please, 
J  "•*•  and  do  just  as  I  please — hie.     Guess  I'm  a 
free  man  ain't  I  ?" 

One  could  plainly  see  that  the  speaker  was 
traveling  at  a  break  neck  speed  down  the  road  to 
ruin.  This  is  the  wreck  of  the  bright  young 
man  whom  we  saw,  only  eleven  months  ago.  strug- 
gling, though  vainly,  with  the  tempter.  Ernest 
Day's  plan  has  succeeded  well.  Mark  the  change. 
The  dark  blue  eyes  are  heavy,  dull  and  blood- 
shot, the  face  red  and  bloated,  and  alcohol  is 
cooking  the  brain.  He  wears  a  slouched  hat  and 
his  person  is  neglected;  his  clothes  are  in  tatters 
and  he  has  the  manner  and  airs  of  a  vagabond 
about  him.  His  weeping  sister,  between  sobs, 
said: 

"Oh!  George — brother — why  do  you  continue 
this  downward  course  ?     Don't  you  see  what  the 

60 


7O  THE   WORST    FOE. 

end  must  be  ?  Why  can't  you  spend  your  even- 
ings with  us  as  you  used  to  do.  Our  sorrow 
then  was  really  very  light  compared  with  the 
present,  for  we  had  you  to  help  us  bear  our 
burden." 

"If  there's  anything  I  hate,  it's  a  whining  wo- 
man," said  the  inebriate  youth. 

For  a  moment  Deena  Hammond  sobbed  in 
silence  and  then  said:  "George,  I  do  not  be- 
lieve it  is  you  who  abuse  me,  your  heart  is  too 
good,  too  kind  and  gentle.  It  is  the  evil  spirit 
which  has  entered  in  the  form  of  alcohol.  But 
promise  me,  brother,  that  you  will  stay  with  us 
to-night?" 

"Mother's  calling  you,  Deena." 

"I  cannot  go,  George,  until  you  promise  me 
not  to  leave  to-night.  If  you  had  stayed  with  us 
on  that  fatal  night,  how  much  misery  might  have 
been  spared  us." 

She  stopped  and  he  sat  mute,  and  silently 
gazed  on  the  floor.  The  feeble  voice  of  her 
mother  was  again  heard  calling : 

"Deena — Deena,  please  come  !  " 

"Yes,  mother, — promise  me,  George. " 

"Promise  what?  "  he  demanded  savagely. 

"That  you  will  be  here  when  I  come  back, and 
that  you  will  stay  with  us  to-night." 

"Yes,  I'll  stay  with  you  to-night, "  he  answered 
desperately,  evidently  anxious  to  get  rid  of  his 
sister. 


THE   WORST    FOE.  /I 

Modenia,  fixing  her  once  bright,  beautiful  eye 
on  the  brother  whom  she  still  loved,  despite  his 
degradation  and  fallen  condition,  said  : 

'  'Oh,  George,  you  will  not  tell  me  a  falsehood 
will  you?  You  will  not  deceive  me?  " 

"D'ye  think  I've  turned  out  to  regular  lyin'  ?  " 
he  asked  in  an  angry  manner. 

Modenia  feared  to  rouse  the  slumbering  pas- 
sions within  his  breast,  and  so  said  no  more  to 
him ,  but  left  the  room.  Alas  !  she  had  not 
realized  that  while  the  fiend  alcohol  can  breed 
murder  within  the  human  heart,  it  can  also  trans- 
form the  honest,  truthful  youth  to  a  reckless  liar. 
The  mother's  wants  were  soon  supplied,  and 
Modenia  hastened  back  to  where  she  had  left 
her  brother,  to  find  the  room  vacant.  She  ran 
to  the  door  and  looked  up  and  down  the  street, 
hoping  to  see  her  brother  that  she  might  run,  call 
him  back,  and  persuade  him  again  to  pass  one 
night  at  home,  away  from  the  temptations  that 
were  plunging  him  into  the  abyss  of  ruin,  but 
George  could  nowhere  be  seen.  Wringing  her 
hands  in  silent  despair,  this  once  beautiful  girl 
sank  down  sorrowfully  into  a  chair.  She  dared 
make  no  outcry,  much  as  her  natural  impulse  in- 
clined her  to  do  so.  Her  mother  was  very  ill, 
and  dared  not  add  more  to  her  grief.  The 
bright  eye  was  dulled  with  sorrow,  the  dimpled 
cheek  pale  and  careworn.  Will  these  dark  clouds 
ever  clear  away,  and  will  the  sunlight  of  peace 


72  THE    WORST    FOE. 

and  happiness  ever  beam  forth  again  on  her  dark 
life? 

While  sitting  bowed  down  with  sorrow  and 
shame,  she  was  roused  by  a  knock  at  the  door. 
She  started  up  and  opened  it.  A  small  boy  was 
there  holding  a  sealed  note  in  his  hand. 

"Is  this  Miss  Hammond  ?  "  he  asked. 

"It  is,"  was  her  answer. 

"Mr.  Day  sent  this  and  told  me  to  wait  for  an 
answer,"  and  he  handed  her  the  sealed  note. 
With  trembling  hand  she  took  the  envelope, 
broke  the  seal  and  glanced  at  the  contents.  It 
was  so  brief  that  a  single  glance  sufficed. 

"DEENA 

I  have  something  important  to  communi- 
cate.    When  and  where  can  I  see  you? 

Yours,  truly, 

E.  D." 

With  a  pencil  she  wrote  at  the  bottom  of  the 
page: 

"At  home.      Come  now. 

D.  H." 

She  folded  this  and  gave  it  to  the  boy  to  return, 
and  trembling  with  some  terrible  apprehension  at 
her  heart,  she  went  into  the  faded  little  parlor  to 
await  the  arrival  of  Ernest  Day.  She  had  not 
long  to  wait.  His  familiar  rap  which  used  to 
send  a  thrill  of  gladness  to  her  heart,  was  heard 
at  the  door,  and  trembling  and  shuddering  vio- 
lently she  admitted  him.  When  Ernest  Day 


THE    WORST    FOE.  73 

gazed  upon  that  faded,  blighted  beauty,  some- 
thing like  pity  came  to  his  hardened  heart  and 
he  said  : 

"I  am  very  sorry  for  you,  Deena,  and  especially 
as  what  I  have  to  say  will  increase  rather  than 
diminish  your  burden." 

"What  have  you  to  say?"  she  asked,  fixing 
her  large,  tearful  eyes  upon  him. 

Seating  himself,  and  pressing  his  hand  to  his 
temple,  as  though  he  felt  a  pain  there,  he  finally 
stammered : 

' '  Your  brother — he — has  forged  a  note  on 
me." 

Modenia  Hammond  started  up,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment clung  to  the  back  of  her  chair  for  support. 
Could  it  be  that  her  brother,  whose  honor  had 
always  been  the  pride  of  the  family,  had  been 
guilty  of  a  crime?  But  she  remembered  that 
the  demon  that  had  stolen  away  his  sympathy 
and  truthfulness,  might  have  also  taken  his 
honor.  Yet,  knowing  Ernest  Day  only  as  the 
destroyer  of  her  happiness,  she  replied : 

"  I  do  not  believe  it.  I  will  not  believe  it 
until  I  have  better  evidence  than  Ernest  Day's 
word." 

"All  right,  Mtss  Hammond,  I  am  equal  to  the 
emergency."  He  then  told  her  what  had  first 
led  him  to  suspect  George — that  he  had  em- 
ployed a  detective,  who  was  to  be  silent  until 
he  told  him  to  make  the  charge.  He  then  ex- 


74  THE   WORST   FOE. 

hibited  papers  corroborative  of  his  accusation. 

"  Where  is  the  detective?"  asked  Deena. 

' '  If  you  wish  to  see  him  you  can  have  that 
pleasure,  for  he  is  not  far  away." 

"  I  want  to  see  him." 

He  left  her,  saying  he  would  return  in  a  few 
moments,  but  it  seemed  an  age  before  his  hand 
turned  the  door  knob,  and  he  ushered  in  a 
stranger,  wearing  a  detective's  star  on  the  lapel 
of  his  coat. 

The  detective  was  very  considerate  of  her 
feelings  in  telling  his  story  of  her  brother's 
disgrace,  but  every  incident  connected  with  the 
forgery  was  fully  explained.  He  concluded  with : 
4 '  For  the  sake  of  his  family  Mr.  Day  does  not 
want  the  misguided  youth  exposed.  He  says 
he  can  mete  out  a  better  punishment  for  him, 
and  save  the  family  the  disgrace  of  a  criminal 
prosecution." 

The  detective  left  them,  and  then  Deena, 
turning  to  Ernest  Day,  said  : 

"  It  was  for  my  sake  you  purchased  the  offi- 
cer's silence.  You  think  you  can  mete  out  a 
better  punishment  and  save  poor  George  and 
ourselves  the  disgrace  of  a  criminal  prosecution. 
If  you  are  so  thoughtful,  why  not  have  accom- 
plished all  this  without  coming  to  me  at  all?" 

' '  I  am  only  willing  to  keep  silent  on  certain 
conditions, "  he  answered  in  an  undertone. 

"What  are  they?" 


THE    WORST    FOE.  75 

"  Your  own  silence,"  he  hissed  between  his  set 
teeth,  while  the  light  of  demons  gleamed  from 
his  eyes.  For  a  moment  she  was  silent,  and 
mustering  up  all  her  strength  to  meet  his  fiery 
determination,  she  said : 

"  While  mother  lives  I  will,  for  her  sake,  keep 
silent,  but  should  I  outlive  her,  I  swear — " 

"Stop,  Deena,"  he  cried,  coming  so  close  to 
her  that  she  felt  his  hot,  angry  breath  on  her 
cheek.  ' '  Promise  me  to  keep  silent  now  and 
forever  on  that  subject,  or  before  to-morrow's 
sun  shall  set  your  brother  will  be  in  the  iron 
grasp  of  the  law,  and  then  nothing  can  keep 
him  from  the  penitentiary.  Your  solemn 
promise  given  now  will  save  your  brother  and 
your  family  this  blow,  which  would  certainly 
result  fatally  on  your  sick  mother.  Now  if  you 
were  to  make  matters  public  you  could  effect 
nothing,  for  I  intend  doing  what  I  proposed, 
and  I  think  you  are  sensible  enough  to  under- 
stand that  this  is  the  only  reasonable  way  out 
for  us." 

"  You  were  the  first  who  lead  George  astray," 
she  returned,  slowly  and  thoughtfully.  ' '  Now, 
I  shall  exact  a  promise  of  you — never  to  come 
near  my  brother  again ;  never  darken  this 
threshold,  but  leave  us  alone  to  our  misery." 

"There  is  no  honor  in  being  the  companion 
of  George  Hammond,  and  I  gladly  shake  him 
off." 


76  THE    WORST   FOK. 

"Then  I  give  you  my  promise  of  silence, >v 
she  said  reluctantly. 

"  Now  and  forever  ?  " 

"  Now  and  forever,"  she  repeated. 

' '  I  believe  you  will  keep  your  word,  Deena ; 
now  let  us  part  as  friends,"  said  Ernest  Day, 
extending  his  hand  toward  her. 

She  raised  her  reproachful  eyes  to  his  face  and 
said :  ' '  Do  you  think  I  can  endorse  your  vil- 
lainy and  give  you  the  hand  of  friendship  ?  No, 
sir !  sooner  would  I  touch  a  deadly  serpent  than 
your  hand.  Go  now,  and  remember  to  insure 
my  silence  you  must  faithfully  perform  your 
part.  Never  speak  with  George  or  darken  this 
door." 

"  Good-bye,  Deena.  I  wish  you  felt  differ- 
ently toward  me.  Time  will  prove  that  I  am 
right." 

He  was  gone,  and  Deena  Hammond  felt  that 
the  last  tie  which  bound  her  to  earthly  happi- 
ness was  snapped.  Burying  her  face  in  her 
hands  she  sobbed  convulsively.  A  few  months 
previous  she  would  have  found  solace  from  her 
woes  by  appealing  to  her  Heavenly  Father  for 
aid ;  but  now  all  the  fountains  of  Christian  faith 
and  hope  were  dried  up,  and  she  could  not  pray 
to  a  God  whose  very  existence  she  doubted. 
The  future  was  so  dark,  with  nothing  to  hope  for. 
An  invalid  mother,  a  drunken  father  and  brother, 
and  a  young  sister  being  reared  in  the  worst 


THE   WORST   FOE.  77 

cesspool  of  iniquity  in  the  whole  city,  made  her 
cares  more  than  she  could  bear.  For  months 
there  had  not  been  a  ray  of  light.  The  night 
brought  no  refreshing  sleep,  and  dawn  failed  to 
leave  the  toil  of  yesterday  behind.  Her  load 
constantly  increased.  She  had  the  cares  of  the 
present  and  past  upon  her. 

Hour  after  hour  she  sat  there  in  a  painful  rev- 
erie, and  the  midnight  hour  drew  near.  A  weak, 
tottering  step  was  heard,  and  she  started  up,  to 
see  her  invalid  mother  in  the  door. 

"  Deena !  why  are  you  not  in  bed,  my  dear?" 
she  asked  anxiously ;  "  are  you  sick  ?  " 

"No,  mother,  I  am  well." 

"  I  awoke,  called  you,  and  you  did  not  answer; 
then  I  went  to  your  bed,  and  it  was  untouched. 
The  gas  was  burning  out  here,  and  I  came  to  see 
why  it  was  not  turned  off,  and  found  you  sitting 
alone.  I  have  been  waiting  so  long,  too,  for 
your  father,  Deena  ;  why  don't  he  come?" 

"  I  cannot  answer  that,  mother,  but  I  would 
like  some  one  to  tell  me  why  we  are  so  cursed 
as  to  be  eternally  wretched.  George  has  be- 
come a  sot,  as  well  as  father,  and  if  we  were  all 
dead  it  would  be  better. " 

' '  Oh,  Deena,  do  not  talk  that  way,  child. 
God  has  some  purpose  in  having  us  live." 

"I  do  not  believe  there  is  a  God,  mother," 
cried  the  girl  almost  fiercely.  "  If  there  is,  He 
must  be  a  cruel  master.  What  have  we  done 


78  THE  WORST  FOE. 

that  He  should  make  us  the  sport  of  fiendish 
caprice?  " 

"  Oh,  Deena  !  Deena  !  do  hush.  I  can't  bear 
to  have  you  talk  so.  This  is  only  a  trial,  dear, 
that  we  may  be  all  the  brighter  when  we  do 
come  forth.  Think  of  Job  and  take  courage. 
Intemperance  is  one  of  our  greatest  evils,  but 
heaven  forbid  that  it  should  upset  our  faith  and 
ruin  the  chances  of  future  blessings." 

"  But  oh,  think  of  George,  mother,"  cried  the 
poor  girl,  wringing  her  hands  in  agony. ,  "  Only 
eleven  months  ago  he  was  our  main  prop  and 
stay — our  hope,  our  all ;  and  we  thought  if  any 
one  was  on  the  sure  foundation  it  was  our  own 
beloved  George.  Since  he  has  become  ensnared 
in  the  toils  of  the  tempter,  who  is  safe  ?  " 

"  No  one  is  safe  while  the  unholy  traffic  is  per- 
mitted. All  are  subjected  to  the  temptation  while 
these  earthly  hells  are  permitted  to  run  in  full 
blast  in  our  land." 

' '  Yet  how  many  will  hug  the  worst  foe  to 
their  breasts  and  talk  of  liberty  to  do  as  they 
please,  and  let  friends,  bright  prospects,  a  life 
of  usefulness  and  happiness  go,  taking  in  their 
stead  sin,  shame  and  misery?" 

' '  There  will  be  an  end  to  this  some  day, 
Deena,"  said  Mrs.  Hammond,  with  a  hopeful 
sigh.  "  I  still  have  hope  that  intemperance 
will  be  swept  from  the  land.  It  may  require 
many  more  martyrs  like  ourselves,  but  humanity 


THE   WORST    FOE.  79 

will  in  course  of  time  revolt  against  the  outrages 
and  tyranny  of  king  alcohol,  and  the  voters  will 
rise  up  in  their  might  and  put  it  down  forever. 
It  may  not  come  in  time  to  benefit  us,  for  there 
must  be  many  sacrifices  before  the  nation  will 
be  roused  to  the  reality  of  its  danger.  What, 
then,  if  we  are  made  martyrs  ?  Humanity  will, 
in  the  end,  be  benefitted  by  it." 

The  slamming  of  a  door  at  this  moment  put 
an  end  to  their  conversation.  Was  it  the  hus- 
band and  father,  or  son  and  brother.  Both 
asked  the  same  question  in  a  breath.  It  was 
George.  He  came  into  the  room,  his  crushed 
hat  well  on  the  back  of  his  head,  his  hair  down 
on  his  forehead,  and  with  a  drunken  giggle,  as 
he  staggered  from  side  to  side,  began : 

"He,  he,  he,  Deena, — kept  my  word,  didn't 
I? — hie,  I  told  the  boys  I  must  come  back, 
cos  I'd  promised — hie — my  sister  that  I  was 
goin*  to  stay  at  home — he,  he,  he.  Always 
keep  my  word,  don't — hie — care  what  happens, 
don't  I  Deena  ?  " 

He  went  on  for  some  time  in  his  drunken, 
idiotic  manner,  when  his  sister  and  mother 
finally  got  him  to  bed,  where  he  almost  imme- 
diately fell  into  a  heavy,  drunken  slumber. 
Having  disposed  of  the  wreck  of  a  few  months, 
the  invalid  and  her  daughter  sat  down  to  wait  for 
the  wreck  of  years. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

REJECTED. 

"  Of  all  the  causes  which  conspire  to  blind 

Man's  erring  judgment,  and  misguide  the  mind, 
What  the  weak  head  with  strongest  bias  rules, 

Is  PRIDE,  the  never-failing  vice  of  fools." 

—Pepe. 

r  lacked  but  a  month  until  Guy  Denesmore 
and  his  friend  William  would  return  to  Staun- 
ton.  Pauline  was  counting  the  days,  which 
seemed  to  drag  by,  so  anxious  had  she  grown. 
If  one  had  asked  her  whose  return  would  give 
her  most  pleasure,  Guy's  or  Mr.  Strasmore's, 
she  of  course  would  have  answered  that  she  was 
most  eager  to  see  her  brother.  Perhaps  she 
thought  she  was,  for  her  deceitful  little  heart 
would  never  admit,  even  to  herself,  how  dear 
her  brother's  friend  had  become  to  her. 

Mr.  Denesmore  was  reading  his  evening  paper 
and  Pauline  was  engaged  in  some  light  needle- 
work when  the  door-bell  rang.  She  was  about 
to  answer  it  herself  v/hen  she  heard  the  footsteps 
of  a  servant  girl  going  toward  the  door.  She 
had  almost  forgotten  the  caller,  so  absorbed  was 
she  in  her  own  thoughts,  when  the  door  opened 

80 


THE    WORST    FOE.  8 1 

and  the  servant  girl  said  Mr.  Day  was  in  the  par- 
lor waiting  to  see  Miss  Pauline. 

Mr.  Denesmore  raised  his  eyes  from  the  paper 
he  was  reading,  glanced  at  Pauline  through  his 
glasses,  and  ascertaining  who  the  visitor  was, 
again  resumed  his  reading.  Pauline,  supposing 
that  Ernest  Day  had  merely  called  in  regard  to 
some  Sunday  School  arrangements  was  really  glad 
to  hear  his  arrival  announced. 

She  found  him  more  amiable  than  usual  on 
this  occasion,  and  he  held  her  hand  much  longer 
than  propriety  or  friendship  required.  They 
were  soon  sitting  close  together  but  by  no  means 
like  lovers,  chatting  quite  pleasantly.  At  times 
Pauline  felt  a  repugnance  to  him  and  was  half 
inclined  to  run  away,  but  she  summoned  up  all 
her  courage  and  made  herself  as  agreeable  as 
she  could.  Ernest  Day  had  reformed !  Such 
was  the  rumor  that  went  about  over  town.  He 
had  given  up  the  social  glass  and  all  the  wild  and 
reckless  pleasures,  so  called,  which  flow  from  it. 
Rumor  also  said  that  Pauline  Denesmore  had 
snatched  him  from  destruction,  and  though  she 
tried  hard  to  give  God  the  praise,  she  felt  within 
her  heart  a  little  pride  that  she  had  been  enabled 
to  effect  so  much  good. 

The  conversation  was  on  Sunday  schools, 
churches  and  societies,  and  in  fact  everything 
save  that  which  bore  most  heavily  on  their  minds. 

(6) 


82  THE   WORST   FOE. 

The  evening  was  delightful  and  Ernest  proposed 
a  stroll  about  the  grounds. 

"Your  grounds  are  so  delightful,"  said  Ernest 
Day  as  they  strolled  forth  from  the  house,  Pau- 
line's hand  resting  lightly  on  his  arm.  '  'I  am 
always  delighted  to  walk  about  in  them." 

'  'I  could  not  endure  a  house  without  trees  and 
brooks,"  said  Pauline.  "A  great  bare  house 
with  all  it's  pomp  and  splendor  and  nothing  of 
God's  handiwork  is  an  unpleasant  sight  to  me." 

"Your  tastes  are  exactly  my  own,  Pauline. 
Father  and  Maria  want  nothing  better  than  a 
costly  mansion  up  town,  where  buildings  are  so 
thick,  a  blade  of  grass  cannot  find  space  to  grow ; 
but  give  me  shady  trees,  waving  meadows  and 
running  water  every  time." 

They  came  to  a  rustic  seat  within  the  generous 
glow  of  the  moonlight,  and  were  soon  seated. 
It  would  have  been  apparent  to  a  close  observer 
that  Ernest  Day  was  laboring  under  some  em- 
barrassment. On  his  cheeks  came  and  went  a 
scarlet  hue,  and  at  times  he  was  thoughtful  and 
absent  minded ;  but  Pauline's  mind  was  so  com- 
pletely absorbed  with  the  return  of  her  brother 
and  William  Strasmore  that  she  paid  little  atten- 
tion to  her  companion,  no  more  than  courtesy 
demanded  she  should. 

"Pauline,"  he  at  last  said  in  such  a  husky,  des- 
perate voice  that  it  startled  her.  There  was  an 
unintended  fierceness  about  the  sound  which  was 


THE   WORST   FOE.  83 

startling.  Pauline  trembled,  she  knew  not  why, 
but  the  very  manner  of  the  man  portended  evil. 
Ernest  Day  seemed  to  completely  choke  up  for 
a  few  moments  and  then  he  began  again :  "Pau- 
line, I  have  something  to  tell  you  and  must  speak 
of  it  now  while  I  can.  Don't  think  I  am  mad 
or  out  of  my  mind,  for  if  I  am  it  is  but  natural, 
perhaps,  under  these  circumstances.  I  want 
you  to  believe  me  in  earnest,  for  as  Heaven  is 
my  witness  I  am.  I  love  you,  Pauline,  and  have 
ever  since  you  were  a  child.  I  have  been  a  wild 
boy,  I  know,  but  I  have  reformed,  and  with  you 
as  my  companion  throughout  life,  there  would 
never  be  any  danger  of  my  feet  slipping  again. 
I  love  you  devotedly,  Pauline ;  will  you — oh,  will 
you — become  my  wife  ?" 

Pauline  sat  mute  and  silent.  Again  and  again 
had  she  tried  to  stop  him  before  he  said  so  much, 
but  without  avail.  So  unexpected  was  the  dec- 
laration that  her  tongue  seemed  paralyzed.  He 
waited  patiently  for  her  to  speak,  and  she  rose 
trembling  to  her  feet.  Ernest  Day  was  sure  he 
never  saw  a  more  beautiful  picture  than  the  love- 
ly girl  standing  before  him  in  the  moonlight. 
After  several  minutes  of  silence,  she  began : 

"Ernest  Day,  I  am  very  sorry  you  have  said 
so  much.  I  assure  you,  it  was  so  unexpected 
to  me  that  I  could  hardly  speak  until  now.  I 
have  always  been  a  friend  to  you,  and  always 
will  remain  your  friend,  but  I  cannot  be  more ; 


84  THE   WORST   FOE. 

it  is  useless  for  me  to  attempt  to  be  more.  I 
have  watched  you  for  the  last  twelve  months  and 
have  rejoiced  that  your  course  of  life  is  changed 
for  the  better.  I  have  the  highest  regard  for 
you  but  I  can  never  be  your  wife — I  do  not  love 
you  as  a  wife  should." 

"You  could  in  time  learn  to  love  me,  Pau- 
line." 

"No,  it's  useless — " 

"Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake,  Pauline,  do  not  cast 
me  aside  without  one  ray  of  hope;  you  will 
blacken  my  existence." 

"No — no,  Ernest,  don't  say  anything  more 
about  it,  please  don't!"  cried  the  tender-hearted 
girl,  '  'you  will  come  to  think  of  this  differently, 
after  awhile,  and  admit  I  was  right.  Find  some 
other  woman  more  suited  and  more  worthy  of 
yourself  than  I." 

"There  are  none,"  he  earnestly  declared. 

"Oh,  yes,  there  are  many.  I  am  sorry  you 
think  as  you  do,  but  time,  the  healer  of  all 
wounds  and  the  righter  of  all  wrongs,  will  prove 
to  you  that  I  am  right." 

In  vain  were  all  his  pleadings,  even  though  he 
went  down  on  his  knees.  She  upbraided  him 
for  such  folly  and  insisted  that  she  must  go  to 
the  house.  When  they  came  to  part  she  ex- 
tended her  hand  and  said : 

"Ernest,  let  us  part  as  friends.  I  pity  you 
more  than  you  think,  and  I  regret  that  this  must 


THE    WORST    FOE.  85 

be  as  it  is.  I  can  be  a  very  dear  friend  to  you, 
but  nothing  more." 

He  tried  to  smile  and  appear  unconcerned, 
but  there  was  such  a  lurking  devil  in  each  eye 
that  she  shuddered  and  was  glad  when  he  was 
gone.  She  hastened  to  her  room,  and  after  a 
few  moments  painful  thought  about  Ernest  Day, 
fell  to  dreaming  bright  dreams  in  which  William 
Strasmore  was  the  central  figure. 

Ernest  Day  was,  in  the  meanwhile,  walking 
slowly  down  the  street,  his  brow  contracted  with 
anger,  and  his  scheming  brain  evolving  desperate 
plans.  He  had  not  given  up  Pauline  yet. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ESTABLISHED. 

Offspring  of  Heaven  and  esrth,  and  all  earth's  Lord, 
That  such  an  enemy  we  have  who  seeks  our  ruin, 
For  he  who  tempts,  though  in  vain,  at  least  asperse 
The  tempted  with  dishonor  foul  supposed, 
Not  incorruptible  of  faith,  not  proof  against  temptation. 

— Milto*. 

1J  year  and  a  half  has  come  and  gone,  since 
/  -1  Dr.  Guy  Denesmore  established  himself  in 
the  practice  of  his  profession  in  his  native  town. 
His  success  has  been  greater  than  is  usually  th& 
lot  of  young  men  just  entering  upon  a  profess- 
ional career.  His  friend  and  college  chum,  Wil- 
liam Strasmore,  has  also  launched  into  his  legal 
calling  with  bright  prospects  for  the  future. 

The  elder  Denesmores  are  gliding  smoothly 
down  the  stream  of  time,  and  not  a  troubled 
wave  has  yet  risen  to  disturb  the  tranquility  of 
their  voyage,  or  shadow  darkened  their  sky. 
Their  children,  the  usual  object  of  parental  solic- 
itude, have  proven  all  their  hearts  could  wish. 
The  past  has  been  so  sweet  that  the  future  holds 
only  bright  promises  for  them.  Little  did  they 
dream  how  dark  that  future  would  be.  We  can 
thank  Heaven  that  the  veil  conceals  the  future. 


THE    WORST    FOE.  8/ 

How  much  pain  and  sorrow  we  escape  by  not 
being  able  to  rend  the  veil. 

Pauline  Denesmore  had  almost  forgotten  the 
proposal  of  Ernest  Day.  The  matter  had  never 
become  known  outside  the  Denesmore  family. 
Ernest  Day  had  gone  back  to  his  old  habits  and 
no  longer  refused  the  social  glass.  He  was  seen 
no  more  at  church  or  Sabbath  School,  and  those 
who  had  predicted  that  the  reformation  of  the 
skeptic's  son  would  be  short-lived,  now  shook 
their  heads  knowingly  and  said  : 

"I  told  you  so." 

The  Denesmores  were  still  enthusiastic  in 
doing  the  good  work  which  came  within 
their  reach,  but  never  thought  of  searching  the 
highways  for  more  important  work.  Not  so  with 
William  Strasmore.  He  realized  that  life  was 
real  and  earnest,  and  could  not  be  appreciated  or 
enjoyed  without  doing  the  divine  will  of  the 
Master.  He  never  forgot  the  command,  to  go 
into  the  hedges  and  by-ways  and  call  people  to 
God.  He  saw  that  in  the  midst  of  life  we  were 
in  death.  He  had  watched  with  trembling,  the 
constant  and  increasing  strength  of  ' '  The  Wotst 
Foe. "  He  saw  such  a  mass  of  humanity  sailing 
on  the  sea  of  intemperance,  many  of  them  irre- 
sponsible beings  struggling  and  calling  for  aid, 
that  his  soul  was  stirred  within  him.  He  re- 
membered thai  father  who  had  implored  aid  from 
the  public  and  who  had  been  treated  with  silent 


88  THE   WORST   FOE. 

contempt  by  the  voters.  There  were  all  about 
him,  and,  dear  reader,  there  are  all  about  us  to- 
day, thousands  of  unfortunate  people  who  have 
inherited  or  acquired  appetites  for  alcoholic  stim- 
ulants which  they  can  never  overcome  while  the 
temptation  glares  at  them  from  every  corner  of 
the  street.  They  are  always  on  the  brink,  on 
shifting  sand,  and,  as  their  feet  slip  from  under 
them  they  turn  their  hollow  eyes  upon  us,  and, 
in  humanity's  name,  implore  us  for  aid.  But  the 
voter  shrugs  his  shoulders,  casts  his  ballot,  and 
prides  himself  on  being  safe  and  no  fanatic  either. 
William  Strasmore  realized,  that  while  the  evil 
of  intemperance  prevailed,  all  good  efforts  were 
only  half  blessed.  He  had  once  thought  of 
subduing  the  evil,  but  observation  had  convinced 
him  that  such  an  evil  was  not  safe  even  in  a  sub- 
dued state.  The  only  way  to  be  free  was  to 
stamp  out  the  evil  altogether  ;  this  could  only  be 
done  by  uniting  the  strong  and  the  good  against  it. 
He  sat  in  his  office  thinking  on  the  one  great 
question  which  had  almost  completely  taken 
possession  of  his  being.  He  opened  his  desk 
and  from  a  drawer  took  out  a  letter  yellow  with 
age.  It  was  a  very  sacred  document  to  him. 
No  one  save  himself  and  the  writer  knew  its 
contents,  but  on  this  evening  he  intended  to 
place  it  in  the  hands  of  Pauline  Denesmore,  his 
betrothed,  for  her  to  read.  It  contained  a  fam- 
ily secret,  but  it  had  always  been  and  ever  would 
be  his  safeguard  against  temptation. 


THE   WORST    FOE.  89 

William  was  somewhat  sad  and  downcast  when 
he  came  to  the  home  of  his  betrothed.  But 
Pauline  was  bright  and  cheerful  and  made  amends 
for  his  low  spiritedness,  and  accounted  for  her 
lover's  ennui  by  saying  to  herself  that  he  had 
overworked  himself.  When  they  were  quite  to 
themselves  in  the  pleasant  old  parlor,  he  took 
the  time-stained  letter  from  the  breast  pocket  of 
his  coat  and  said  : 

"  Read  that,  Pauline;  it  will  explain  itself." 

She  unfolded  the  pages  and  read : 

"WILLIAM,  MY  DARLING  BOY: — 

' '  Nature  and  my  failing  senses  tell  me  that  before 
long  I  shall  leave  you,  my  precious  child-  it  may- 
be to  a  long  life  in  this  world,  so  full  of  temptation. 
I  yearn  to  take  you  with  me  to  that  world  where  sin 
cannot  enter  and  night  never  comes ;  but  it  may  be 
the  will  of  our  Heavenly  Father  that  you  remain 
behind  to  do  some  good  work.  Better  so,  if  you 
can  only  be  sufficiently  forewarned  against  what  I 
fear  will  be  your  greatest  danger.  Others  would 
shrink  from  telling  you  what  is  so  necessary  for  you 
to  know  early  in  life.  Your  father  was  a  drunkard. 
If  I  could  have  remained  with  you,  the  pain  of  this 
knowledge  would  have  been  spared  you,  my  precious 
child;  but  without  the  watchful  care  of  one  whom 
nature  has  ordained  should  love  you  best,  you  may 
not  be  warned  of  this  inherited  appetite  until  it  is 
loo  late.  Your  father  must  be  dead,  as  I  have  not 
heard  of  him  since  three  months  before  your  birth. 
He  took  his  social  glass  before  we  were  married,  but 


90  THE    WORST    FOE. 

I  always  thought  him  strong  enough  to  resist  the 
temptation,  if  it  should  ever  become  a  temptation. 
The  habit  grew  on  him  until  it  was  uncontrollable. 
We  were  both  orphans,  and  to  our  own  knowledge 
had  no  relations  in  America.  Your  father  had  a 
good  position  in  a  wholesale  establishment,  and  I 
was  teaching  school  at  the  time  we  were  married. 
We  lived  very  happily,  for  my  husband  was  kind, 
and  though  he  drank  occasionally,  I  never  dreamed 
that  he  would  become  an  inebriate.  When  our 
baby,  Minnie,  was  born  I  hoped  she  would  induce 
him  to  break  off  the  habit,  which  I  discovered  was 
gradually  growing  on  him.  But  though  he  did 
make  an  effort  to  desist,  it  was  only  temporary. 
His  old  habit  had  gained  too  strong  a  hold  upon 
him,  and  he  tired  of  home,  wife  and  child,  and 
preferred  the  saloon  and  rum  holes.  Our  baby 
only  lived  two  years,  and  the  angels  called  her 
home.  Though  I  tried  to  turn  his  eyes  toward  the 
Pearly  Gates  which  she  had  entered,  it  was  all  in 
vain.  He  kept  going  from  bad  to  worse,  until  he 
lost  his  position,  and  then  the  misery  of  the  months 
which  followed  is  beyond  description.  I  saw  my 
husband  going  rapidly  down  the  road  to  ruin,  while 
I  was  powerless  to  save  him.  He  tried  to  reform. 
Oh!  he  made  such  noble  efforts  to  escape  the 
demons,  but  the  law  permitted  the  monsters  to 
stand  on  every  corner  of  the  street,  ready  to  seize 
him.  He  could  not  go  about  his  daily  work  with- 
out having  the  temptation  flaunted  in  his  face.  At 
last  I  was  forsaken — he  had  slipped  away  as  com- 
pletely as  if  he  had  gone  to  another  sphere.  I  was 


THE  WORST  FOE.  9! 

unable  to  pay  the  rent,  and  gave  up  our  little  cot- 
tage. I  was  in  a  despondent  state,  when  the  lady 
with  whom  I  had  lived  before  my  marriage  found 
me  and  took  me  home  with  her. 

'•  Eight  weeks  after,  you  were  born.  When  you 
were  quite  young  I  was  stricken  with  a  fever,  from 
which  I  have  never  fully  recovered.  Before  I  was 
strong  I  secured  a  school  several  miles  distant, 
against  the  wishes  and  advice  of  my  friends,  and 
taught  nine  long  months,  though  my  health  seemed 
failing  all  the  time.  I  saw  the  name  of  Strasmore 
mentioned  in  a  paper  published  in  a  city  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  away,  and  hoping  it  might  be  your 
father,  I  set  out  for  the  city.  But  when  I  reached 
the  city  I  could  not  find  my  husband,  though  I 
inquired  at  all  the  prisons,  at  police  headquarters, 
and  hospitals.  My  money  gave  out,  and  I  was 
forced  to  travel  on  foot,  and  beg  my  way  to  this 
district,  where  I  secured  the  school  and  a  temporary 
home  with  Mr.  Johns,  who  has  been  so  kind  to  me. 
I  worked  ardently  at  my  school,  but  consumption 
had  seized  on  my  lungs,  and  after  two  months  I  was 
prostrated  on  this  bed,  from  which  I  shall  never  rise. 
My  dear  Willie,  you  will  have  to  go  through  the  world 
alone,  and  your  pathway  will  not  be  an  easy  one,  but 
hearken  to  the  voice  of  your  dying  mother :  be  not 
tempted  with  strong  drink.  It  blighted  the  lives  of 
your  parents,  and  may  likewise  prove  your  ruin  if 
you  touch  it.  Blame  not  your  father,  but  rather 
pity  his  weakness,  and  hate  the  monster  that  de- 
stroyed him.  Touch  not,  taste  not,  and  handle  not. 
Avenge  your  father's  death  by  making  war  on  the 


92  THE    WORST    FOE. 

traffic  and  never  cease  to  work  until  the  curse 
is  entirely  banished.  Be  not  satisfied  with 

your  own  safety,  but  labor  for  the  safety  of  others, 
and  though  you  are  called  a  fanatic,  remember  that 
it  is  your  duty  to  fight  the  monster  which  brings  the 
chief  misery  to  mankind.  Consecrate  yourself  to  the 
temperance  cause,  my  son;  make'it  your  life's  work, 
and  your  life  will  not  be  spent  amiss.  Now,  my  dar- 
ling child,  I  commit  you  to  the  care  of  our  Heavenly 
Father  and  these  kind  friends,  who  have  promised  to 
care  for  you  as  if  you  were  their  own.  Remember, 
as  you  pursue  your  lonely  journey  through  life,  that 
your  mother  awaits  you  on  that  other  bright  shore. 

"Your  loving  mother,  forever  and  ever, 

"ANNIE  STRASMORE." 

-auline's  tender  heart  was  touched,  and  the 
tears  were  coursing  down  her  cheeks  when  she 
had  finished  reading  the  contents  of  the  letter. 

"  Pauline,"  said  William  Strasmore,  in  a  low, 
solemn  voice,  ' '  I  should  have  told  you  this 
before,  but  I  had  not  the  courage  until  now 
to  lay  bear  this  dark  secret.  You  know  all 
now ;  are  you  still  willing  to  risk  your  life  and 
happiness  in  my  keeping?" 

She  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  cried : 
"Oh,  Willie!  Willie!  I  have  no  fears  of  you. 
You  will  never  yield  to  intemperance,  and  I  will 
help  you  avenge  your  murdered  parents.  We 
will,  together,  make  war  on  alcohol,  and  devote 
our  lives  to  the  work." 


THE  WORST  FOE.  93 

"God  bless  you,  Pauline;  you  inspire  me 
with  courage  and  determination.  You  are  as 
brave,  as  trusting  and  noble  as  my  own  poor 
mother.  Heaven  grant  that  you  may  never 
be  called  upon  to  endure  the  trials  she  had  to 
suffer.'' 

' '  Tell  me  more  of  her,  Willie.  How  long  did 
she  live  after  writing  this  letter?" 

'  'About  two  weeks.  The  letter  was  kept  by 
Mrs.  Johns,  and  given  me  when  I  was  fifteen 
years  old.  I  know  very  little  of  my  parents. 
I  never  knew  my  mother's  maiden  name,  her 
birthplace,  nor  the  date  or  place  of  her  mar- 
riage. She  told  Mrs.  Johns  but  little  more  than  the 
letter  contains,  and  never  did  she  mention  the 
names  of  the  friends  who  had  reared  her  from 
childhood,  or  who  took  care  of  her  after  she 
was  abandoned  by  my  father.  So  deeply  sunk 
was  she  in  despair  that  she  forgot  everything, 
and  Mrs.  Johns  failed  to  make  any  inquiry  of 
her  or  about  her  until  it  was  too  late." 

They  talked  a  long  time,  and  planned  out  a 
temperance  campaign  which  was  to  last  all  their 
lives.  Both  were  young  and  hopeful,  and  both 
enthusiastic  in  the  cause. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  BOUQUET  AND  WHAT  CAME  OF  IT. 

"Heaven  from  all  creatures  hides  the  book  of  fate 
All  but  the  page  prescribed,  their  present  state." 

— Pope. 

T  9  TE  have  now  brought  the  various  threads  of 
*^  our  romance  down  to  the  time  when  Mark 
Day  left  his  mother  and  sister  so  abruptly,  de- 
termined, as  he  vowed,  to  tell  Guy  Denesmore 
every  word  of  slander  his  sister  had  spoken 
against  Pauline.  Mark  was  so  impulsive  and  de- 
termined, that  had  he  found  Dr.  Denesmore  in 
his  office,  there  is  no  question  but  that  he  would 
have  told  him  all,  but  the  young  doctor  was  out. 
After  several  moments  spent  in  reflection,  Mark 
began  to  question  whether  it  was  right,  after  all, 
for  him  to  tell  family  secrets.  He  dared  not  go 
to  his  mother  for  advice  on  this  critical  subject, 
so  he  determined  on  the  next  best  thing,  which 
was  to  go  and  consult  with  his  Sunday  School 
teacher. 

Pauline,  who  had  ever  been  friendly  with  the 
Days,  was  warmly  attached  to  Mark,  who  had 
for  some  time  been  a  member  of  her  Sunday 
School  class.  She  always  welcomed  the  lad 

94 


THE  WORST  FOE.  95 

warmly  when  he  came,  and  Mark  had  often 
confided  his  petty  troubles  to  her,  and  she  had 
never  failed  to  give  him  good  advice.  She  met 
Mark  at  the  door  and  brought  him  to  the  sitting 
room  where  she  was  doing  some  light  sewing. 

"Miss  Denesmore,"  Mark  began  after  an 
awkward  silence  of  a  few  moments,  "D'ye  think 
a  boy  ought  to  tell  every  thing  he  knows?" 

"No,  Mark  it  is  not  necessary  to  do  that." 

"Well  s'pose  a  boy  would  overhear  somebody 
talking  about  somebody  he  thinks  a  great  deal 
of,  ought  the  boy  go  and  tell  'em  all  about  what 
they  said. " 

'  'It  would  do  no  good,  Mark,  and  might  do 
harm ;  unless  in  special  cases  where  it  became  ab- 
solutely necessary  to  tell  one  that  another  had 
slandered  him,  I  would  say  nothing  about  it." 

"You  would'nt  ?" 

"No,  it  would  do  no  good  for  any  one  to 
know  another  had  spoken  ill  of  him,  and  might 
do  a  great  deal  of  harm.  It  would  be  sure  to 
wound  some  one's  feelings,  and  the  slander 
would  not  become  wide  spread,  or  even  known, 
if  not  repeated." 

"Well,  s'pose  a  feller  wanted  to  tell  it  just  to 
learn  somebody  a  lesson — " 

"In  that  instance  he  should  learn  a  lesson  him- 
self first,  Mark." 

"What?" 

"To  curb  his   temper  and   not  be   a  scandal 


g6  THE  WORST  FOE. 

monger.  To  tell  what  another  said  merely  be- 
cause you  are  angry  at  him,  is  revenge,  and  to 
tell  it  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  disseminating 
news,  is  to  become  a  scandal  monger.  You  are 
angry,  are  you  not,  Mark  ?" 

"Well,  yes — you  bet  I'm  a  little  hot  just  now. 
But  say — is  there  any  way  a  boy  can  get  even 
without  being  revengeful." 

"Remember  that  'vengeance  is  mine,  and  I 
will  repay  saith  the  Lord. ' ' 

"Well,  I  don't  doubt  that,  but  then  a  feller 
would  so  like  to  help  the  Lord  along  in  these 
matters  sometimes." 

"The  Lord  does  His  work  in  His  own  way, 
and  in  this  instance  I  greatly  fear  that  it  is  not 
the  Lord,  but  the  evil  one,  you  are  helping." 

'  'Then  you  think  a  boy  never  ought  to  tell  a 
body  what  they  hear  said  about  them  ?" 

'  'Never — unless  it  is  necessary  that  they  should 
shield  themselves  from  danger  in  some  way.  I 
think  you  are  not  in  a  proper  mood,  Mark,  to 
decide  this  matter.  Take  a  week's  time  and 
consider  it  well  before  you  do  anything." 

"I'll  do  that,"  said  Mark  warmly,  "I'll  do 
anything  you  want  me  to  do.  I've  found  out 
that  you  never  advise  any  one  wrong,  and  as 
long  as  I  do  just  as  you  say, I  do  right. " 

'  'You  have  done  remarkably  well  in  mastering 
yourself  in  the  last  two  years,  Mark,  but  these 
sudden  outbursts  of  passion  are  liable  to  change 
the  good  opinion  we  have  formed  of  you." 


THE    WORST    FOE.  97 

"But,  Miss  Denesmore,  don't  think  a  feller 
can  quit  off  all  at  once.  It  isn't  natural,  you 
know.  If  a  locomotive  is  running  full  speed 
and  you  stop  it  at  once,  something  will  break. 
I  have  about  quit  all  the  bad  habits  I  had,  but 
an  unconverted  fellow  can't  drop  all  at  once — 
you  must  let  him  down  easy." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,  then  try  to  become 
converted  and  be  safe.  I  want  you  to  assist  me, 
Mark,  in  some  missionary  work." 

"Missionary  work — good  land,  Miss  Denes- 
more,  you  don't  think  I  am  good  enough  to  be 
a  missionary  ?" 

"Of  course,  every  one  can  help  the  good 
cause  if  he  will,  and  the  more  you  work  for  others 
the  better  you  will  become.  Mr.  Strasmore  says 
that  in  the  west  end  of  the  city  there  is  a  num- 
ber of  children  with  intemperate  parents.  I 
want  you  to  hunt  them  up,  and  we  will  go  to- 
gether among  them  and  try  to  persuade  them  to 
come  to  the  Hall  next  Sabbath." 

"I'll  do  it,"  cried  Mark  enthusiastically,  "I'll 
do  whatever  you  say.  Speaking  of  Mr.  Stras- 
more, I  tell  you  the  big  boys  in  his  class  like 
him.  I  don't  believe  one  of  them,  big  or 
little,  would  do  anything  contrary  to  his  wishes. 
All  his  boys  talk  temperance — but  that' sail  non- 
sense." 

"Why?" 

"It  makes  me  think,  why  don't  people  vote 
more  and  do  less  blowing. "  (7) 


98  THE   WORST   FOE. 

'  'No  man  is  entitled  to  more  than  one  vote, 
and  what  more  can  he  do  than  cast  it  for  the 
man  or  cause  he  thinks  most  sacred? " 

"A  heap  more,"  cried  Mark,  "every  good 
man  ought  to  be  able  to  influence  a  dozen  more 
men  in  the  right.  Let  'em  get  to  work  coaxing 
them  to  vote  just  as  I  coax  the  boys  at  school, 
sometimes,  to  do  the  way  I  want  to,  and  then 
they'd  carry  things.  There  is  Judge  Humphrey. 
Just  see  what  a  fraud  he  is,  playing  pig  and 
puppy  all  the  time,  and  people  who  claim  to  be 
temperance  people  voting  for  him,  too.  When 
he  is  among  temperance  people  he  claims  to  be 
a  temperance  man — in  moderation.  Because  he 
occupies  the  position  of  a  judge  to  decide  crimi- 
nal cases,  he  thinks  he  ought  not  to  make  much 
blow  about  it.  When  he  is  among  the  whisky 
men  he  denounces  temperance  people  as  fanatics 
and  fools.  Oh,  I've  heard  him  do  that.  He 
thought  I  was  only  a  boy  and  he  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  me.  He  goes  to  saloons  and  drinks  until 
his  face  is  red  and  he  can  hardly  walk  straight, 
and  then  they  say  he  is  a  temperance  man. 
When  whisky  cases  come  up  for  him  to  decide, 
the  law  is  always  against  temperance — yet  he  is 
a  temperance  man.  When  Jim  Sprout,  the 
druggist,  was  arrested  for  selling  liquor,  he  let 
him  pay  the  costs  in  some  cases,  and  some  he 
dismissed  altogether  and  gave  him  all  the  time 
he  wanted  on  others.  But  Sprout  is  the  brother- 


THE  WORST  FOE.  99 

in-law  of  Judge  Humphreys'  brother,  and  some 
say  that  is  the  reason  Judge  Humphreys  lets  him 
off  so  easily.  After  elections  are  over  Judge 
Humphreys  sometimes  makes  a  temperance 
speech  and  then  gets  drunk  before  the  week  is 
out.  He  gets  whisky  votes  because  he  is  a 
whisky  man  and  temperance  votes  because  he 
is  a  temperance  man." 

"People  may  get  their  eyes  open  to  Judge 
Humphreys  yet,  Mark." 

"Well,  they  had  better  get  'em  open  soon,  for 
he  comes  up  for  re-election.  It's  not  much  use 
to  have  temperance  laws  if  you  don't  have  a  tern, 
perance  judge  to  enforce  'em.  Humphreys  is 
temperance  to  the  back  bone  when  he  wants 
temperance  votes,  but  he  is  always  finding  some 
flaw  in  testimony  or  the  law  to  let  whisky  sellers 
out.  Now,  because  Humphreys  is  a  rich  and 
powerful  man  you  must  not  say  he  does  wrong, 
when  he  is  a  grand  fraud. ' ' 

"I  believe  you  are  right,  Mark,  though  your 
language  is  forcible.  I  hope  they  will  beat 
Humphreys  next  time.  Your  ideas  are  original. " 

"Yes,  father  always  said  I  was  full  of  original 
sin.  I  know  how  things  ought  to  be  and  when 
I  get  to  be  a  man  I'm  going  to  try  to  right  'em. 
Humphreys  will  find  one  man  who  is  not  afraid 
to  talk  about  him  and  tell  just  what  he  is.  He 
can't  scare  me  out  as  he  did  the  editor  who  pub- 
lished the  piece  about  him,  and  make  me  hush 


IOO  THE   WORST   FOE. 

up."  Mark  was  about  to  leave,  when  Pauline 
told  him  to  come  to  the  flower  garden  and  she 
would  send  his  sister  a  bouquet. 

So  absorbed  had  Mark  become  in  the  discus- 
sion of  Judge  Humphreys'  dual  character  that 
he  had  forgotten  the  great  object  of  his  visit 
until  he  had  the  bouquet  in  his  hand  and  started 
down  the  street. 

"It  wont  do  to  give  her  this,"  said  Mark  to 
himself  as  he  hurried  down  the  street.  "No, 
that  would  be  rewarding  her  for  abusing  Pauline. 
I  wont  do  it.  I  might  return  good  for  evil  and 
heap  coals  of  fire  on  her  head,  but  Maria  is  not 
one  to  be  punished  that  way. 

He  crossed  some  open  streets  and  came  to 
the  'premises  of  old  Joe  Hammond.  The 
wretched  house  and  restaurant  stood  on  the  cor- 
ner and  on  the  right  hand  side  was  a  board  fence 
or  wall  enclosing  the  yard  and  concealing  it  from 
view.  Thinking  of  Joe  Hammond  and  many 
more  like  him,  Mark  was  hardly  aware  of  what 
he  was  doing  until  he  had  gone  around  the  wall 
and  stopped  at  a  gate  that  stood  ajar.  A  little 
form  glided  through  the  gate,  and  not  noticing 
the  boy,  threw  some  fine  blocks  she  had  brought 
in  her  apron  down  upon  the  pavement. 

"Now !"  she  said,  infantile  pleasure  lighting 
up  the  innocent  little  face.  "Lillie  make  play 
house  wiz  these  b'ocks.  Deena  no  split  'oo  in 
kindling  wood." 


THE   WORST   FOE.  IOI 

'  'Helloa,  little  girl,  what  is  your  name  ?"  asked 
Mark  without  changing  his  position.  The  child 
now  saw  the  well  dressed  boy  standing  looking 
at  her,  and  dropping  her  head,  put  her  finger  to 
the  corner  of  her  mouth  and  after  a  moment's 
hesitation  said : 

"I  is  Lillie?" 

"Yes,  and  a  real  pretty  Lillie  you  are,"  said 
the  boy  enthusiastically.  '  'Is  old  Joe  Hammond 
your  father?" 

"Do  Hammond,  he's  papa." 

"Would  you  like  these  flowers,  my  little  girl?" 

"Ess — we  dot  no  fowers.     Mamma  's  sick." 

"A  home  needs  few  flowers  with  such  a  Lillie 
as  you  growing  in  it."  She  did  not  understand 
him,  but  her  large  blue  eyes  opened  wide  with 
admiration  for  both  flowers  and  donor.  Mark 
watched  her  as  she  brushed  back  the  golden  curls 
which  trespassed  on  her  fair  forehead.  Putting 
the  flowers  to  her  face  and  then  holding  them  off 
to  get  a  better  view  of  them,  she  exclaimed : 

'  'Oh,  make  mamma  so  glad  !"and  turning  about 
she  was  off  in  a  moment. 

"Good-bye  little  rosebud,"  said  Mark  as  she 
disappeared  inside  the  great  wall  of  boards.  "If 
old  Joe  Hammond  was  but  half  a  man,"  he 
thought  '  'he  wouldn't  get  drunk,  for  that  child's 
sake." 

Mark  was  not  old  enough  to  know  that  strong 
drink  alienated  husbands  from  wives,  fathers 


IO2  THE  WORST  FOE. 

from    children,  and   sons    from    their  mothers. 

It  makes  such  demons  of  men  that  they  hate 

all  they  naturally  should  love.     We  wonder  at 

the  effect  of  this  serpent's  bite,  and  yet  make  no 

effort  to  destroy  the  serpent. 

Lillie  Hammond   entered  her  mother's   sick 

room  and  laid  the  elegant  bouquet  of  flowers  on 

the  sick  bed,  saying : 

"See,  mamma,  see,  eez  is  for  'oo." 

"Where  did  my  little  girl  get  them  ?" 

"Boy,  mamma — a  boy,  a  date  bid  boy  dive  'em 

tome." 

Who  is  he,  what  is  his  name?" 

The  child  shook  her  puzzled  little  head  and 

said  she  did'nt  know. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE     FATAL     STEP. 

"  O  teacher  !  some  great  mischeif  had  befallen 
To  that  meek  man,  who  well  had  sacrificed  ! 
Is  pity  thus  and  pure  devotion  paid  ?  " 

— Milton. 

WHILE  Mark  was  talking  with  Lillie  Ham- 
mond, having  utterly  forgotten  his  spoiled 
sister,  whom  he  had  started  out  to  humiliate, 
Maria  was  at  home  trembling  with  apprehen- 
sion, and  giving  vent  to  her  passions  by  long 
screams  which  at  intervals  of  every  few  moments 
filled  the  house. 

The  long  afternoon  passed,  the  quiet  evening 
twilight  came,  and  Maria  was  miserable  indeed 
— lamenting  the  events  of  the  early  afternoon, 
and  warring  with  her  conscience,  at  times  wish- 
ing she  was  dead,  and  at  others  declaring  she 
cared  not  what  the  result  of  Mark's  disclosures 
might  be. 

At  last  the  bell  rang,  and  Dr.  Denesmore  was 
announced.  Her  astonishment  and  fears  were 
almost  unbearable.  Mark  had  gone  to  Guy, 
and  he  had  doubtless  come  for  some  sort  of  an 
explanation.  Well,  she  at  least  would  have  the 
opportunity  of  saying  to  her  lover  that  she 

103 


IO4  THE  WORST  FOE. 

meant  nothing.  Hastily  arranging  her  toilet 
and  assuming  an  expression  so  sweet  that  one 
would  not  think  that  that  pretty  face  could  have 
ever  been  soured,  she  hastened  to  the  parlor, 
where  the  young  doctor  was  waiting. 

"I  thought  you  would  never  come,"  were 
her  first  words  before  she  had  time  to  think  that 
it  might  be  possible  Mark  had  not  told  him  after 
all. 

"Business  has  been  very  pressing  of  late," 
said  Guy,  '  'and  though  you  have  been  out  of 
sight  you  were  by  no  means  out  of  mind." 

She  now  realized  the  possibility  of  Mark's 
threat  having  miscarried.  If  it  had  not,  it  had 
evidently  made  little  impression  on  Dr.  Denes- 
more's  mind.  He  was  very  agreeable,  and 
gradually  all  the  unpleasant  thoughts  of  the 
afternoon  slipped  from  Maria's  mind,  and  she 
gave  herself  up  wholly  to  the  society  of  her 
lover. 

Later  in  the  evening  Mark  returned  home, 
and  noiselessly  passing  down  the  hall,  walked 
to  the  parlor  door,  which  stood  slightly  ajar. 
A  few  thin  rays  of  light  issued  from  within, 
which  aroused  the  boy's  curiosity.  Mark 
pushed  the  door  open  and  took  one  step  inside 
and  paused.  Guy  and  Maria  were  both  sitting 
on  the  sofa,  side  by  side.  Her  head  was  resting 
against  his  shoulder,  his  arm  was  about  her  waist, 
and  his  hand  held  her  s.  So  completely  v/ere  the 


THE  WORST  FOE.  IO5 

lovers  absorbed  with  each  other  that  they  did  not 
see  or  hear  the  boy,  who  had  hard  work  to  keep 
from  laughing-  at  what,  to  him,  was  a  most 
ridiculous  sight.  Mark's  mischievous  mind  was 
busy  at  work  trying  to  get  the  most  he  could  out 
of  the  grand  event.  He  turned  quickly  but  noise- 
lessly around  and  started  down  the  hall. 

"Well,  that  means  business,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, when  so  far  away  that  there  was  no  danger 
of  his  being  heard.  "I  guess  Maria's  got  him, 
sure  enough.  Well,  she's  got  the  best  of  the 
bargain.  The  young  doctor  may  think  those 
black  eyes  pretty  now,  but  wait  until  he  sees 
the  lightning  flash.  Her  hands  are  white  and 
small,  but  there  are  claws  there."  He  met  a 
servant  girl  at  this  moment,  and  stopping  her, 
in  great  excitement  said:  "Bridget!  Bridget! 
do  you  know  what's  the  matter  with  Maria  ?" 

"No,  yer  honor,  to  be  sure  ;  what's  the  mat- 
ter wid  the  young  leddy  ?" 

"She's  in  the  parlor  in  an  unconscious  state. 
Get  Manda  and  go  there  at  once. " 

With  many  exclamations  of  alarm  the  Irish 
girl  hurried  away,  and  Mark,  brimful  and  run- 
ning over  with  mischief,  ran  off  into  his  mother's 
room,  stopping  at  the  door  just  long  enough  to 
say: 

"Mother!  Maria  is  in  the  parlor  in  an  uncon- 
scious state,"  and  was  gone  again.  He  went  to 
the  kitchen,  where  aunt  Dinah,  the  colored  cook, 
Was  just  ready  to  go  home. 


IO6  THE  WORST  FOE. 

"Aunt  Dinah!"  he  cried  excitedly,  "Miss 
Maria  is  in  an  unconscious  condition  in  the 
parlor.  Don't  lose  a  minute,  but  get  your 
camphor  bottle  and  run  to  her." 

"Sake's  alibe,  chile  !  what  am  de  matter?" 

"I  don't  know;  there  is  no  time  to  ask  any 
questions — go  at  once." 

Snatching  her  camphor  bottle  from  the  mantel, 
the  fat  form  of  old  aunt  Dinah  went  waddling 
along  the  hall  with  something  very  much  like  a 
run.  Mark  glanced  at  the  fat  old  woman,  heard 
her  excited  puffs,  and  saw  the  bottle  in  her  hand, 
and  the  loose  end  of  her  red  bandanna  handker- 
chief floating  from  its  turban-like  fold,  and  fell 
down  into  the  cook's  easy  chair  and  kicked  and 
screamed  with  laughter.  He  was  still  roaring  when 
aunt  Dinah  came  back,  trying  to  conceal  the 
vexed  smile  on  her  face — 

"What  d'ye  mean,  chile?"  she  asked,  trying 
to  conceal  the  humorous  twinkle  in  her  eyes.  ' '  I 
jess  clar  ef  I  was  yo'  mudder  ef  I  didn't  whoop 
you  ef  it  war  de  last  ting  I  ebber  done." 

"Why,  aunt  Dinah,  wasn't  she  unconscious?" 
asked  Mark. 

' '  Unconscious ! — wall,  I  guess  she  war,  honey, 
he,  he,  he,  he."  It  was  too  much  for  the  good- 
natured  aunt  Dinah,  and  she  leaned  against  a 
table  and  laughed  until  it  seemed  as  if  she 
would  never  regain  her  breath. 

"Aunt  Dinah,  tell  me  just  what  you  saw  in 


THE  WORST  FOE.  IO/ 

the  parlor?"  said  Mark,  trying  to  control  his 
own  risibles. 

"G'lang,  now,  chile;  d'ye  reckin'  I'm  gwine 
to  tell  family  secrets  ?  " 

"It's  no  secret  when  told  in  the  family;  be- 
tides, I  will  get  it  all  in  an  exaggerated  form 
from  Bridget  and  Manda." 

"  Dat's  so.  I  nebber  saw  gals  zaggerate  so  in 
all  my  bawn  days.  Dey'll  be  tellin'  a  awful  mess 
o'  stuff." 

"  It  makes  no  difference,  aunt  Dinah,  for  Guy 
and  Maria  are  engaged." 

"Law's  a  massa,  yo'  don't  say,  now?  Why 
didn't  I  heah  ob  it  afore  ?  " 

"  I  guess  it  just  happened.  I  came  along  and 
saw  her  in  his  arms,  and  knew  that  meant  busi- 
ness ;  so  I  thought  it  was  time  everybody  was 
knowing  it,  and  began  to  scatter  the  good  news. 
I  say,  aunt  Dinah,  didn't  you  find  her  in  an  un- 
conscious state?" 

"Oh,  hush,  honey,"  said  aunt  Dinah,  smooth- 
ing out  her  snow-white  apron  with  her  hand,  and 
folding  her  black,  shining  arms.  ' '  I  jes  come 
'long  on  de  run,  an'  right  in  de  room  stood  dem 
gals  Bridget  and  Manda,  boff  dumb-foundered- 
like.  Den  yer  ma,  she  jest  come  runnin',  all 
pantin'  an'  scart  like  she  was  gwine  to  faint. 
She  run  past  us,  went  up  to  wha'  Miss  Maria 
lay  in  de  Doctor's  arms,  an'  said:  'Oh,  Doctor, 
what  am  de  matter  wid  my  daughter — what  do 


IO8  THE  WORST  FOE. 

all  dis  mean?'  Ef  ye'll  believe  me,  needer  ivliss 
Maria  nor  de  Doctor  had  seed  or  heerd  us.  Oh, 
ye  orter  seed  how  mad  Miss  Maria  looked.  O  me. 
E)en  de  gals  an'  me,  we  got  out  o'  dah  putty 
quick.  Dey's  engaged,  sartin,  shuah. " 

"Oh,  yes,  you  can  bet  they  are  engaged,  aunt 
Dinah,  or  you'd  never  have  found  'em  in  that 
interesting  position. " 

' '  I  guess  yer  right,  honey.  Ef  I'se  got  to  look 
arter  de  cookin'  fur  de  weddin'  I'm  not  goin'  to 
be  pestered  to  def  wid  dat  Bridget  tellin'  me 
how  Mrs.  Malhoney  use  to  season  tings.  Fse 
not  cooked  long  afo'  de  wah  for  nuffin'." 

"You'll  not  be  bothered  with  Bridget,  Dinah. 
I  say,  aunt  Dinah,  couldn't  you  get  a  boy  some 
soft  gingerbread  and  cream  ?  It  seems  I'm  al- 
ways hungry." 

"  Laws  sakes,  honey,  yo*  can  hab  any  'mount 
ob  it,  but  it's  cold,  an'  it's  no  'count  when  it's 
cold,  but  jes  wait."  She  left  the  room,  and  re- 
turned in  a  few  moments  with  a  glass  of  cream 
and  gingerbread,  Mark's  favorite. 

' '  Do  you  know  the  Hammonds,  aunt  Dinah  ?  " 
Mark  asked,  as  he  proceeded  to  eat  his  favorite 
luncheon 

"Ole  Joe  Hammond!  I  reckin  I  do.  Mrs. 
Wessenger,  de  woman  I  worked  for  afo'  I  came 
heah,  used  to  take  a  sight  o'  pains  wid  Mrs. 
Hammond.  One  day  when  Lillie  was  a  wee 
bit  of  a  baby,  she  sent  me  dar,  an*  I  nebber  sa* 


THE  WORST  FOE.  ICX) 

nicer  people  an'  Deena,  an'  her  mudder,  an' 
Geo'ge.  I  jess  said  to  Missus  Hammond,  dat 
son  Geo'ge  of  your'n  will  be  de  comfort  ob  yo' 
'clinin'  y'ars.  He  '11  nebber  break  a  mudder's 
heart  " 

"George  Hammond!  why  he's  the  biggest 
drunkard  in  town,"  broke  in  Mark.  "He  is 
drunk  all  the  time." 

"Geo'ge  Hammond  drunk!"  cried  Aunt 
Dinah  in  amazement.  ' '  Oh,  Master  Mark, 
who  am  safe  ?  I  is  afraid  my  Jefferson  Lea  '11 
be  next." 

' '  I  tell  you,  Aunt  Dinah,  whisky  is  a  danger- 
ous thing  to  handle.  No  one's  safe  while  there's 
a  bit  of  it  left.  The  Denesmores  never  have  a 
drop  in  their  house,  but  they  are  not  entirely 
safe,  because  there's  the  serpent  waiting  outside 
to  bite  'em.  I  wish  you  wouldn't  use  brandy  in 
your  seasoning," 

"Good  laws,  Master  Mark,  can't  git  nuffin' 
in  place  of  it." 

"Then  let  things  go  without  seasoning. 
George  Hammond  may  have  got  to  liking" 
whisky  by  tasting  it  in  sauce." 

"  Bress  de  Lawd,  he  nebber  taste  it  in  mine, 
an'  nobody  else  ebber  will  agin.  I'll  nebber  put 
it  in — no,  not  ef  I  git  turned  off  for  it." 

"You'll  not  be  discharged,  Aunt  Dinan;'if 
you  are,  I'll  give  you  a  recommend,  and  state 
why  you  were  turned  off." 


HO  THE  WORST  FOE. 

Aunt  Dinah  arose,  and  looking  at  the  clock, 
said :  ' '  Ef  it  ain't  nine !  I  allers  git  home  afo' 
eight.  What  '11  Washington  Irvin  say!  " 

' '  Tell  him  you  have  been  a  witness  to  some 
first-class  courting." 

"Ha,  ha,  ha,  Mark,  it  may  be  you  and  dat 
Lillie  Hammond  next  time." 

That  night  in  her  dreams  Aunt  Dinah  saw 
Mark  a  great  bearded  man,  and  Lillie  a  bright 
young  woman,  and  was  cooking  for  their  wed- 
ding. She  had  frosted  the  cake  until  it  was  like 
a  snow  flake,  when,  Bridget  declaring  it  was  in- 
ferior to  Mrs.  Malhoney's,  threw  it  from  the 
window.  So  great  was  Aunt  Dinah's  rage  that 
she  awoke. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  WEDDING. 

"  Self-love  still  stronger,  as  its  object's  nigh  ; 
Reasons  at  distance,  and  in  prospects  lie." 

—Pope. 

MARK  was  right  in  his  conjectures  of  a  wed- 
ding in  the  near  future.  The  day  set  was  a 
few  weeks  sooner  than  the  date  for  William  Stras- 
more's  marriage  to  Pauline.  Guy  had  spoken  of 
a  double  wedding,  but  Maria  had  serious  objec- 
tions, and  her  wish  was  law  to  him.  She  was 
so  selfish  that  on  her  wedding  day  she  wanted 
no  divided  attentions  or  congratulations. 

Guy  lived  in  a  paradise  of  anticipation,  in 
which  all  good  men  perhaps  once  live — antici- 
pation of  the  hour  when  the  fulfillment  of  time 
would  make  the  woman  he  loved  his  own,  to 
care  for,  protect  and  adore.  At  home  all  shared 
his  happy  mood,  and  if  occasionally  behind  the 
scenes  Pauline  stood  and  trembled  for  her  broth- 
er's future,  or  even  shed  tears,  no  one  was  the 
wiser,  not  even  her  own  betrothed. 

Very  different,   indeed,    were  the   feelings  of 
Maria ;  she  knew  now  to   a  certainty  that  Guy 
loved  her  and  that  she  would  become  his  wife. 
She  thought  it  was  just  as  it  should  be,    for  she 

111 


112  THE  WORST  FOE. 

was  just  the  woman  to  preside  over  his  magnifi- 
cent home.  Of  course  they  would  live  more 
grandly  than  any  one  else.  She  was  irritable  to 
all  the  household,  and  when  Mark  reminded  her 
that  in  view  of  her  coming  marriage  she  ought 
to  be  a  little  more  pleasant,  she  stamped  her 
small,  pinched  foot  on  the  floor  and  bade  him  be 
gone. 

Mr.  Day  was  pleased  with  the  coming  mar- 
riage of  his  daughter,  Guy  was  held  in  the 
highest  esteem  by  all  who  knew  him,  but  in  ad- 
dition to  that  he  was  the  son  of  a  wealthy  man. 
Honors  without  wealth  were  empty,  indeed,  to 
Mr.  Day.  To  Maria  he  proudly  said  : 

"You  are  going  to  do  very  well,  but  no  better 
than  you  should.  That  face  of  yours  is  worth 
a  fortune  and  would  be  sure  to  attract  a  man  of 
wealth." 

Maria  consulted  the  small  mirror  in  her  fan  to 
see  if  her  loveliness  had  increased  since  she  con- 
sulted the  large  French  mirror  in  her  dressing 
room  a  few  moments  before.  She  had  been 
taught  to  worship  the  beauty  of  her  face  and 
figure,  therefore  we  must  be  lenient  toward  her. 
Selfishness  and  every  evil  relative  thereto  is  the 
result  of  flattered  vanity.  Mrs.  Day  was  all 
smiles  and  amiability  for  weeks  preceding  the 
wedding.  Ernest  Day  was  decidedly  morose 
and  very  seldom  joined  the  family  circle.  He 
never  referred  to  the  subject  daily  discussed  by 


THE    WORST    FOE.  1 13 

the  other  members  of  the  household.  He  never 
congratulated  his  sister  and  actually  seemed  to 
avoid  Guy.  All  the  while  he  was  brooding — 
silently  brooding  over  something. 

Aunt  Dinah  had  her  own  way,  and  Bridget 
was  told  she  must  not  molest  her  with  any  insin- 
uations about  Mrs.  Malhoney.  Mark  frequently 
came  to  the  kitchen,  for  what  boy  has  not  been 
attracted  by  the  odors  of  baking  cakes?  He 
stood  with  eyes  wide  open  in  admiration  of 
Aunt  Dinah's  artistic  skill  as  worked  out  in  a 
handsome  lily  leaf  and  bud  on  the  frosting  of 
the  bride's  cake.  Her  black  skin  was  quite  in 
contrast  with  her  snowy  apron  and  turban.  Aunt 
Dinah  chuckled  with  delight  at  Mark's  praise  oi 
her  skill,  and  as  a  reward  allowed  him  to  sample 
cakes,  jellies  and  preserves.  What  boy  does  not 
like  to  be  about  the  kitchen  at  baking  time  and 
sample  the  various  dishes  ?  Mark  was  delighted 
and  he  sounded  Aunt  Dinah's  praise  until  she 
laughingly  said : 

"Well,  honey,  I  tries  to  do  my  best,  'cause 
dis  am  an  extra  'casion.  I  hope  I'll  lib  to  bake 
yo'  weddin'  cakes  for  yo',  chile." 

"I  hope  so  too,  Aunt  Dinah.  Anybody  can 
afford  to  get  married  just  to  have  you  bake  foi 
them." 

"Oh,  hush  up,  boy,  yo'  doan'  know  what  ye's 
talkin"bout,  'tall." 

(8) 


H4  THE  WORST  FOE. 

The  day  for  the  grand  wedding  came.  For 
weeks  it  had  been  the  all  absorbing  topic  of  con- 
versation in  social  circles.  The  most  aristocratic 
church  in  the  town  had  been  selected  by  Miss 
Maria,  for  she  wanted  to  make  a  grand  display. 
As  the  .Days  were  not  church  members,  of  course 
they  were  confined  to  no  particular  creed.  On 
that  day  the  large  church  was  crowded,  and 
many  rich  and  elaborate  toilets  were  to  be  seen 
in  the  assembly.  The  wedding  was  in  English 
fashion  to  suit  Miss  Day's  taste,  the  bridegroom 
and  his  best  man  entering  the  chancel  from  the 
vestry  room  and  there  awaiting  the  bride.  The 
organ  was  playing  a  wedding  march  when  the 
bride  entered,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  father 
who  was  to  give  her  away.  She  was  preceded 
by  four  ushers  and  followed  by  four  brides- 
maids. The  bride's  costume  was  elegant ;  her 
dress  was  of  white  brocade  and  satin,  the  front 
being  of  plain  satin  laid  in  several  square  folds, 
over  which  was  a  tablier  of  the  brocade.  The 
corsage  was  cut  in  a  wide,  deep  square  and  trim- 
med with  point  lace.  A  small  spray  of  orange 
blossoms  was  secured  with  diamonds.  She  wore 
a  necklace  of  diamonds,  to  which  was  attached 
a  brooch,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  magnifi 
cent  diamond.  She  carried  in  her  hand  a  bou- 
quet of  lilies  of  the  valley. 

When  Guy  Denesmore  stepped  to  the  side  of  his 
bride  and  took  her  hand  in  his,    poor  Pauline's 


THE   WORST   FOE.  11$ 

heart  almost  ceased  to  beat.  Was  he  entering 
on  the  road  to  ruin  ?  Was  he  taking  a  step 
which  he  must  all  his  life  regret  in  silence  ?  she 
asked  herself.  She  was  only  conscious  of  the 
good  minister  saying  some  half  intelligible  words, 
and  of  low  and  solemn  prayer.  Then  came  con- 
gratulations. Pauline's  lips  were  cold  when  she 
kissed  her  new  sister,  but  they  seemed  to  meet 
lips  of  ice.  Involuntarily  she  shuddered,  she 
knew  not  why. 

At  Mr.  Day's  house  the  decorations  were 
magnificent.  The  main  parlor  was  decorated 
with  a  large  marriage-bell  of  white  roses,  carna- 
tions and  lilies  of  the  valley,  under  which  the 
bride  and  groom  stood  to  recieve  the  congratu- 
lations of  friends.  On  the  other  side  of  the  bell 
stood  cornucopias  of  roses  and  lilies  of  the  valley. 
In  each  corner  of  the  room  were  groups  of  palms. 
The  main  mantel  and  mirror  were  decorated  with 
smilax  and  roses.  The  pictures  were  hung  with 
berries,  ivy  and  ferns ;  through  the  verdant 
•wreaths  the  gilded  frames  gleamed  in  the  gaslight. 
The  crystal  chandelier  was  also  trimmed  with 
smilax  and  roses.  The  rear  parlor  was  decorated 
with  smilax  and  plants,  and  the  dining  room, 
where  the  collation  was,  contained  many  rose- 
buds and  full-blown  roses. 

Dancing  was  dispensed  with  on  this  evening 
for  the  sake  of  Guy's  parents.  Maria  yielded 
this  one  time  to  the  wishes  of  her  husband  but 
resolved  never  to  do  so  again. 


Il6  THE   WORST   FOE. 

As  Mr.  John  Denesmore  gazed  upon  the  beau- 
tiful bride,  he  did  not  wonder  that  his  son  had 
chosen  her,  for  never,  in  all  his  life,  had  he  seen 
a  more  attractive  woman,  she  seemed  the  ideal  of 
some  skilled  artist  rather  than  a  real  person  of 
flesh  and  blood.  But  when  he  came  to  greet  his 
son's  wife,  her  cold  and  selfish  nature  were 
so  apparent,  that  he  almost  shrunk  from  her, 
and  turned  away  with  a  strange  sadness  and  un- 
definable  dread.  She  had  an  irresistible  charm 
about  her,  but  it  was  more  like  the  charm  of  a 
serpent  than  a  pure,  good  woman.  Pauline,  who 
had  not  spoken  to  Ernest  Day  for  many  months, 
warmly  grasped  his  hand  on  this  evening  and 
said: 

'  'We  are  both  gainers,  Mr.  Day.  You  have 
gained  a  brother  and  I  a  sister. "  She  was  chilled 
by  the  coldness  of  his  hand,  and  the  wild  ex- 
pression in  his  eyes  frightened  her.  After  giving 
her  a  stare  from  his  cold,  almost  glassy  eyes,  he 
said  : 

"Yes,  Miss  Denesmore,  we  are  both  gainers. 
I  am  satisfied  with  Maria's  choice." 

She  left  his  side  as  soon  as  politeness  would 
permit,  and  avoided  him  the  remainder  of  the 
evening.  Somehow  she  felt  that  he  would  bring 
woe  upon  her  life. 

The  next  day  Guy  Denesmore  and  his  young 
wife  set  out  on  a  bridal  tour  through  the  west. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

OUT  OF  THE  DITCH. 

"Alas,  'tis  true,  I  have  gone  here  and  there, 

And  made  myself  a  motley  to  the  view, 
Gor'  mine  own  thoughts,  sold  cheap  what  is  most  dear, 

Made  old  offences  of  affection  new." 

— Shakespeare. 

William  Strasmore  was  true  to  the  trust  com- 
mitted to  his  care,  and  determined  not  to  stop 
short  of  the  entire  extermination  of  the  evil. 
But  the  minds  of  the  masses  had  not  yet  been 
educated  up  to  the  advanced  idea  of  prohibition, 
and  he  determined  to  be  one  of  those  humble 
educators.  At  this  time  a  large  temperance  or- 
ganization was  prospering  under  his  leadership, 
as  was  also  a  juvenile  "Band  of  Hope"  under 
the  superintendence  of  Pauline  Denesmore,  as- 
sisted by  himself.  It  was  the  intention  to  bring 
all  the  children  of  intemperate  parents  in  the  city 
into  this  organization.  Their  combined  efforts 
were  blessed  and  many  were  brought  within  the 
folds  of  this  little  band. 

William  Strasmore,  in  this  work  to  which  he 
had  consecrated  himself,  found  many  things  to 
make  his  heart  bleed.  George  Greene,  "one  of 

117 


Il8  THE   WORST   FOE. 

Mr.  Strasmore's  boys, "  as  Mark  termed  them, 
had  been  received  into  the  lodge  of  Independent 
Order  of  Good  Templars.  He  told  of  his  own 
efforts  and  the  efforts  of  Mr.  Strasmore  to  redeem 
his  father.  His  father  had  made  many  good 
resolutions  and  been  received  several  times  into 
the  lodge,  and  notwithstanding  the  encourage- 
ment and  prayers  of  his  family  and  friends, 
invariably  fell.  Beset  on  every  hand  by  tempta- 
tions, his  strong  desire  to  be  a  man  was  over- 
come by  an  unquenchable  thirst,  an  over-ruling 
appetite  which  made  him  an  abject  slave  to  strong 
drink.  Mr.  Greene  remembered  the  time  when 
he  had  no  such  appetite  for  liquor.  He  only 
drank  then  "to  be  social  with  the  boys."  But 
now  he  was  its  slave,  vainly  trying  to  free  him- 
self from  this  bondage.  George  Greene,  in  deep 
humiliation,  said  to  his  fellow  workers  in  this 
glorious  cause: 

"Make  one  more  effort  for  father.  I  will  not 
say  that  I  think  he  can  resist  the  temptation,  you 
can  only  give  him  a  trial.  The  only  way  to  make 
his  salvation  sure  is  to  sweep  all  saloons  and 
places  where  liquors  are  sold  from  the  face  of 
the  earth." 

As  William  Strasmore  returned  to  his  hotel 
that  night,  he  scarcely  heeded  the  darkness  or 
drenching  rain.  The  street  lamps  burned  dimly, 
and  in  places  the  way  was  obscure,  but  his  heart 
was  heavy  and  his  mind  full  of  sad  thoughts. 


THE   WORST   FOE. 

What  an  herculean  task  he  had  undertaken,  and 
with  what  little  success  had  his  efforts  been  met. 

A  smothered  groan  fell  on  his  ear,  and  he 
stopped  to  look  about  him.  Another  gutteral 
sound  fell  on  his  ears,  and  now  he  discovered  an 
object  lying  in  the  gutter  but  a  few  feet  from 
where  he  stood.  He  went  to  it,  and  never  had 
humanity  presented  itself  in  such  a  fallen  state, 
to  his  eyes.  There,  lying  in  the  mud,  his  bare 
head  resting  on  his  arm,  his  clothes  bespattered 
with  mud,  was  a  young  man  about  his  own  age; 
a  man  created  in  the  image  of  God,  with  wis- 
dom and  capabilities,  groveling  in  the  mud  like 
the  swine ,  a  young  man,  who,  a  little  more 
than  a  year  before  was  respected  by  all  who  knew 
him,  and  the  pride  of  his  mother's  heart.  Wil- 
liam gazed  on  this  wreck  of  manhood  a  few  mo- 
ments, turned  him  over  and  tried  to  get  him  on 
his  feet  but  was  unequal  to  the  task,  while  the 
poor,  besotted  wretch  only  swore  at  his  would- 
be  benefactor,  and  asked  to  be  let  alone. 

William  hailed  a  passing  policeman  and  said : 
"Please,  sir,  help  me  get  this  man  on  his  feet." 

"Want  him  taken  to  the  lock-up  ?"  asked  the 
officer. 

"No,  sir." 

"A  friend  of  yours  ?" 

"I  am  a  friend  to  him  but  do  not  think  he  is 
friendly  toward  me." 

Despite  his  efforts  to  resist  them,    they  sue- 


I2O  THE   WORST   FOE. 

ceeded  in  getting  the  poor  fellow  on  his  feet. 
He  uttered  an  unintelligible  jumble  of  threats  and 
imprecations  on  the  heads  of  his  benefactors. 

"Where  d'ye  intend  takin'  him?"  asked  the 
officer. 

"To  the  Park  House,"  was  the  answer. 

"What,  take  this  sot  there.  The  proprietor 
will  kick  him  out." 

"No  he  will  not,"  said  William  assuringly. 
'  'I  have  rooms  there,  and  he  shall  sleep  in  my  bed, 
and  I  will  keep  him  there  until  he  has  regained 
his  reason." 

"You  are  Mr.  Strasmore,  the  lawyer,  I  be- 
lieve?" said  the  policeman,  after  giving  our  hero 
a  curious  look. 

"Yes  sir." 

"At  your  temperance  work,  eh  ?  Well  you've 
got  a  tough  case  here.  His  father  is  an  old  vet- 
eran toper,  and  of  course  it 's  natural  his  son 
should  follow.  It  runs  in  the  family. " 

"Who  is  he?" 

"Good  gracious,  man,  don't  you  know  him? 
why  you  just  now  said  he  was  a  friend  of  yours. " 

"I  am  a  friend  to  him,  I  said;  because  he  be- 
longs to  the  human  family,  I  am  his  friend.  I 
will  keep  him  with  me  until  he  is  sober,  and  then 
give  him  some  good  advice.  If  he  does  not 
take  it,  I  have  done  my  duty,  that  is  all." 

"Well,  you  beat  all  fellows  I  ever  met,"  said 
the  policeman,  scratching  his  head.  '  'This  fellow 


THE  WORST  FOE.  121 

\s  old  Joe  Hammond's  son,  George.  Both  of 
them  are  known  drunkards." 

"George  Hammond — George  Hammond," 
said  William  Strasmore,  thoughtfully,  ' '  I  have 
certainly  heard  that  name  before." 

The  hotel  was  reached,  and  George  Hammond's 
mud-stained  clothes  were  removed.  He  was 
washed  and  arrayed  in  some  of  William's  clean 
night  garments,  and  placed  on  a  clean  bed 
where  he  soon  fell  asleep.  In  fact  he  was  only 
semi-conscious  all  the  time. 

"Whose  work  is  this  ?"  William  Strasmore 
asked  the  policeman. 

"What  a  question  !  "  laughed  the  policeman. 
"His  own  work  of  course,  whose  else  could  it 
be?" 

"No,"  returned  William,  shaking  his  head 
gravely.  "It  is  not  his  own  work,  but  the  work 
of  intemperance,  for  which  voters  are  responsi- 
ble. Did  you  vote  against  license  ?  " 

"I  did  not." 

'  'Then  you  are  responsible  ;  think  of  yourself 
aiding  to  bring  about  such  misery." 

"Pshaw!  Mr.  Strasmore,  you  look  at  it  the 
wrong  way  :  you  are  on  the  unpopular  side,  and 
you'll  make  enemies  by  it.  Lawyers  to  be  suc- 
cessful must  take  a  glass  occasionally  themselves. 
Besides  one  man's  vote  makes  no  difference,  and 
when  we  voted  for  license,  we  did  not  vote  for 
men  to  make  beasts  of  themselves." 


122  THE    WORST   FOE. 

"I  fear  you  cast  your  vote  without  giving  the 
matter  a  serious  thought.  Had  you  stopped  a 
moment  to  think,  you  must  have  known  that 
this  and  worse  would  have  been  the  result.  Each 
voter  can  use  his  influence  at  the  polls  as  well  as 
elsewhere.  I  never  have  taken  a  drink  with  my 
clients  and  never  will,  even  though  I  should  have 
to  abandon  my  business  for  not  doing  so." 

"Well,  it's  no  use  for  us  to  argue  this  question, 
Mr.  Strasmore.  I  cannot  change  your  mind  nor 
can  you  change  mine. " 

William  thanked  him  for  his  services,  slipped 
a  silver  coin  in  his  hand  in  addition,  and  bade 
him  good  night,  locked  the  door,  and  throwing 
himself  on  the  sofa,  was  soon  asleep. 

When  George  Hammond  awoke,  the  sun  was 
beaming  in  at  the  window  and  William  Strasmore, 
with  folded  arms,  stood  at  his  bedside  gazing 
compassionately  upon  him.  For  a  moment  the 
bewildered  youth  could  only  stare  about  him  in 
amazement,  and  then  starting  up  to  a  sitting  posi- 
tion he  asked : 

'  'What  does  this  mean  ?  How  came  I  here  ?" 
His  head  was  heavy  and  his  temples  throbbed 
with  pain,  and  he  laid  back  on  the  pillow  while 
a  deathly  pallor  overspread  his  face. 

"You  are  with  a  friend  who  is  going  to  do  all 
he  can  for  you,  "said  William  Strasmore,  kindly 
taking  his  hand  in  his  own.  George  was  about 
to  make  some  other  inquiry  when  William  stop- 


THE   WORST    FOE.  123 

ped  him.  "Don't  try  to  talk,  your  head  aches 
and  it  will  make  it  worse  to  try  to  get  up  or  talk. 
Let  me  do  the  talking, for  there  is  much  I  want 
to  say  to  you,  and  as  my  time  is  limited  I  must 
talk  very  rapidly  and  to  the  point.  I  am  not 
going  to  upbraid  you  for  the  condition  in  which 
you  were  found  last  night,  for  you  are  more  to 
be  pitied  than  blamed.  I  know  that  temptations 
beset  men  on  every  side  and  that  while  the  spirit 
is  willing  the  flesh  is  weak." 

"If  it's  not  me,  whom  do  you  censure?  A 
man  who  makes  a  fool  of  himself  must  not  be 
held  blameless." 

"Every  man  who  is  old  enough  to  vote,  who 
did  not  work  and  vote  against  license,  is  to 
blame. " 

"I  never  votea  for  license  but  once,  and  then 
I  did  it  to  please  my  associates.  Strong  drink 
has  always  been  my  greatest  dread  from  a  boy. 
After  I  had  once  fallen  it  was  my  master.  I 
wanted  to  do  differently,  but  it  seemed  I  could 
not  live  without  stimulants,  so  great  was  this 
awful, burning  thirst." 

'  'Can  you  not  make  a  resolve  now  to  reform, 
and  by  the  help  of  God  become  a  man  ?" 

'  'It's  no  use.  Here  in  the  midst  of  my  old 
associates,  with  the  temptation  constantly  before 
me,  to  tempt  my  craving  appetite,  I  cannot  re- 
form." 

"Do  not  depend  on  yourself — ask  God  to  help 
you." 


124  THE  WORST  FOE- 

"I  can't  believe  in  a  God  such  as  Christians 
believe  in.  There  is  my  mother — I  have  a  good 
mother,  Strasmore — who  has  prayed  all  her  life, 
and  taught  me  to  pray.  Oh,  how  she  has  prayed 
for  the  restoration  of  my  father  and  that  I  might 
be  kept  from  falling.  So  far  from  her  prayers 
being  answered,  we  have  been  sinking  lower  all 
the  time.  No,  a  God  who  cannot  answer 
mother's  prayers  will  not  hear  me." 

'  'Your  mother  has  not  done  wrong,  and  her 
prayers  have  kept  her  from  wrong  doing.  Had 
you  prayed  for  yourself  as  fervently  as  she  has 
prayed  for  you,  you  would  not  have  fallen. 
Your  mother's  prayers  may  be  answered  very 
differently  from  the  way  she  asks.  You  may  all 
be  instruments  of  good  in  the  Lord's  hands.  If 
you  pray,  'lead  us  not  into  temptation  but  deliver 
us  from  evil,'  with  an  earnest  desire  from  the 
heart,  and  the  proper  faith,  your  prayer  will  be 
answered  as  sure  as  day  succeeds  night.  I  speak 
from  experience.  If  your  companions  have  an 
evil  influence  over  you,  remove  as  far  from  them 
as  you  can,  so  as  not  to  be  tempted  by  them. 
Choose  a  different  class  of  associates,  and  pray 
for  strength  and  guidance,  and  your  efforts  are 
sure  to  be  blessed.  Now,  Mr.  Hammond,  grant 
me  this  request ;  remain  in  my  rooms  to-day. 
By  and  by,  when  you  feel  so  disposed,  you  can 
go  into  the  other  room  where  a  breakfast  will  be 
waiting  for  you.  Here  are  such  books  as  you 


THE  WORST  FOE.  1 25 

will  want  to  read.  Think  much  of  yourself,  look 
well  into  your  heart,  and  find  if  you  have  strength 
to  sacrifice  your  appetite  for  the  sake  of  justice 
and  mercy  to  yourself  and  others.  At  four  we 
will  dine  and  go  out  for  a  drive.  The  remainder 
of  the  day  we  will  spend  as  much  to  the  mutual 
benefit  of  each  other  as  we  can."  George  Ham- 
mond, with  a  desperate  resolution  to  make  one 
more  effort  at  reformation,  consented.  "Now, 
if  you  will  give  me  the  number  and  street  of 
your  family,  I  will  tell  them  you  are  going  to 
spend  the  day  with  me,  and  make  no  allusion  to 
the  events  of  last  night." 

George  Hammond  looked  very  grateful  for  the 
gentle  consideration  of  his  new  found  friend  and 
gave  his  number,  and  William  left  the  room. 

When  alone  the  inebriate  gave  way  to  the 
most  bitter  reflections.  A  conflict  was  raging 
within  his  breast  and  all  the  pent-up  feelings  of 
remorse  seemed  to  burst  forth  and  overwhelm 
him,  and  he  groaned  aloud  in  agony.  '  'I  can  lie 
here  no  longer,"  he  finally  said,  springing  from 
the  bed  and  putting  on  his  clothes,  which  had 
been  cleaned  and  prepared  for  him.  He  went 
into  the  adjoining  room,  where  he  partook  of 
some  of  the  food  awaiting  him  there  and  sat 
down  to  await  the  return  of  his  benefactor. 

There  were  books  in  the  book  case,  but  he 
could  not  read,  he  could  only  review  the  mis- 
spent twenty  months,  and  try  to  look  hopefully 


126  THE  WORST  FOE. 

at  the  future.  What  a  wreck  twenty  months  of 
dissipation  had  made  him  Fully  realizing  his 
position  he  was  in  both  physical  and  mental 
agony.  Once  the  craving  appetite  mastered 
him,  and  he  went  to  the  door  intending  to  break 
his  good  promise.  He  felt  relieved  when  he 
found  the  door  locked. 

Knowing  his  friend  would  be  tempted,  William 
had  taken  the  wise  precaution  to  lock  the  door. 
Ah !  if  all  the  doors  between  the  tempter  and 
tempted  could  be  barred,  what  a  blessing  to  poor, 
suffering  humanity  it  would  prove  !  The  door 
is  not  only  unlocked,  but  the  temptation  is  at 
every  corner  appealing  urgently  to  all  the  senses 
and  actually  dragging  the  unfortunate  victim 
within  its  fatal  folds.  The  tempted,  led  on  by 
an  unquenchable  thirst,  does  not  stop  to  think 
that  behind  those  dark  screens  lurks  humanity's 
"  Worst  Foe"  ready  to  seize  upon  the  unwary  and 
to  drag  him  into  his  den  of  despair. 

George  Hammond,  like  many  another  young 
man,  knew  all  this,  but  felt  sure  that  he  could  go 
so  far  and  no  farther,  only  to  become  a  living  exam- 
ple of  the  fallacy  and  danger  of  such  doctrine. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MARK    AS   A   MISSIONARY. 

"But  there  are  bright  visions 

On  which  we  may  gaze, 
And  no  fear  of  their  fading 

E'er  darken  our  ways. 
There  are  gates  that  are  golden, 

And  dreams  unsurpassed  : — 
They  are  visions  of  Heaven 

That  endure  to  the  last." 

— Mustek. 

H  AT  Lillie  Hammond  's  a  very  pretty  little 
child,"  said  Mark  Day  to  himself  as  he 
passed  old  Joe  Hammond's  miserable  house, 
after  having  stopped  just  long  enough  to  give 
the  bright  eyed  little  fairy  a  bouquet  of  choice 
flowers.  "She  will  make  a  smashin'  finelookin* 
woman — she  will — when  she  gets  grown.'* 
Mark  had  just  started  out  on  his  missionary  work 
and  with  little  Lillie  Hammond  in  mind,  he 
wended  his  way  toward  the  West  End,  as  the 
western  part  of  the  town  was  called.  This  was 
a  locality  which,  in  American  parlance,  is  com- 
monly denominated  as  tough.  Here  resided  a 
majority  of  those  creatures  who  spend  their 

127 


128  THE  WORST  FOE. 

hard  earnings  for  that  which  robs  them  of  body 
and  soul. 

'  'Where  am  I  going  and  what  am  I  going  to 
do  when  I  get  there?"  the  juvenile  missionary 
asked  himself.  "Well,  I  guess  I  can  find  my 
way  out,  I  came  here  to  find  where  certain 
boys  and  girls  live,  so  that  Miss  Denesmore  and 
I  can  call  on  them  and  try  to  enlist  them  in  our 
Sabbath  School,  and  finally  our  temperance 
work — that  makes  me  a  sort  of  home  missionary 
I  guess." 

He  was  certainly  a  bright  eyed,  comely  young 
missionary,  and  one  calculated  to  do  a  great  deal 
of  good  in  the  cause  in  which  he  had  engaged. 
He  reached  a  low,  unpainted  cottage  surrounded 
by  a  paling  fence,  which,  as  well  as  the  house, 
spoke  of  neglect  and  threatened  to  tumble  to 
decay.  An  old  woman  was  seated  in  a  well- 
worn  arm  chair  on  the  shady  side  of  the  house, 
and  Mark  thought  that  this  would  be  as  good  a 
place  as  any  to  begin  his  work,  so  he  paused 
with  his  hand  on  the  rickety  old  gate  and  said : 

"How  do  you  do,  grandma — can  I  come  in  ?" 

The  old  woman  raised  her  head  and  looking 
at  him  from  under  her  spectacles,  answered : 

"Why  o'  course  ye  kin  ef  yer  civil — who  are 
ye  any  way?" 

"I'm  a  boy,"  answered  Mark  entering  the 
gate  and  advancing  toward  the  old  lady.  "I'm 
a  missionary,  and  I  guess  you'll  find  me  civil." 


THE  WORST  FOE.  1 29 

"O'  course  ye  be.  Here,  Hannar,  bring  this 
t>oy  a  cheer.  It's  so  hot  in  the  house  that  ye'd 
better  set  out  in  the  shade,"  said  the  old  woman 
apologetically.  Hannah  proved  to  be  a  dirty, 
barefooted  girl  about  Mark's  own  age.  When 
the  well-dressed  boy  took  the  chair  and  thanked 
her  so  kindly,  she  said  to  herself  that  he  was 
real  nice,  and  wanted  very  much  to  know  his  name 
and  where  he  lived,  but  in  the  parlance  of 
her  grandmother  "couldn't  git  up  the  spunk," 
and  contented  herself  by  leaning  on  her  grand- 
ma's chair  back,  occasionally  giving  him  a  sly 
glance.  After  a  few  moments  Mark  plunged 
into  the  object  of  his  visit,  saying  : 

"I  come  here  to  learn  something  about  the 
boys  and  girls  who  live  in  this  locality.  There 
is  a  Christian  lady  who  wishes  to  know  their 
names,  and  places  where  they  live.  She  intends 
to  visit  them  all  and  persuade  them  to  spend  a 
couple  of  hours  each  Sabbath  at  the  Mission 
Hall.  They  will  all  be  better  for  it,  and  will 
soon  think  it  real  nice  to  go  there.  I  did'ntlike 
the  idea  of  going  there  myself  at  first,  but  now 
there  is  no  place  where  I  have  so  much  fun." 

•'Better'n  the  theatre?"  said  Hannah, evidently 
speaking  under  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  and 
hanging  her  head  and  blushing  a  moment  after- 
ward. 

"Yes,  it  beats  a  theatre  all  to  pieces, "  returned 
Mark  enthusiastically. 

(9) 


I3O  THE  WORST   FOE. 

Grandma  took  her  glasses  from  her  forehead, 
wiped  them  on  the  corner  of  her  apron,  looking 
sharply  at  Mark  all  the  while,  then  mounting 
them  again  on  her  nose  she  said: 

"Yes,  I  s'poseyou  like  to  go  thar,  cosyernot 
ashamed  o'  yer  clothes,  an*  kin  hev  money  to 
put  in  the  box  when  it's  passed  'round ;  but 
how  'd  you  s'pose  this  child  'd  feel  among  them 
stuck  up  folks  that's  no  better' n  she  is?"  nodding 
her  head  toward  Hannah.  "Thar's  one  thing, 
her  father's  an  honest  man,  if  he  isn't  rich  enough 
to  live  in  style.  He  don't  cheat  no'n,  an'  he 
earns  his  bread  by  the  sweat  o'  his  brow;" 

"What  is  his  name?"  Mark  asked. 

"Our  name's  Brown.  I  live  with  my  son, 
Sam  Brown,  who  works  at  the  machine  shops, 
and  a  likely  good  man  he  is,  too,  if  I  do  say  it 
myself;  he's  got  no  bad  habits." 

"I  don't  doubt  it,  and  I'm  going  to  the  shops 
to  see  him  sometime,  if  he'll  talk  to  a  boy  like 
me,"  said  Mark. 

"Oh,  he'll  talk  when  he  finds  you're  friendly; 
but  he's  a  mighty  proud  man,  my  Sam  is,  and 
wont  be  run  over  by  no  rich  folks.  He's  more 
proud  like,  cos  we're  in  sich  a  neighborhood,  all 
carousin',  drinkin'  an'  sich  carryin's  on  as  ye 
never  heerd;  but  Sam  wants  all  to  understand 
that  he  aint  one  o'  'em." 

•  'Are  the  people  in  this  neighborhood  a  bad 
drinking  set?" 


THE   WORST    FOE.  13! 

"Yes,  the  men  are,  but  the  women  are  a  sort 
o'  easy  goin',  like,  don't  'pear  to  worry  much 
'bout  their  men  lettin'  things  go  at  loose  eends, 
an'  most  o'  the  young  uns  is  mighty  bad.  Ef 
goin'  to  the  Hall  will  help  'em  any,  fur  goodness 
sake  try  an'  git  'em  all  to  go.  But  thar's  one  family 
ye'll  find  tough.  Their  name 's  Barnes,  an'  I'll 
pint  out  the  house  fur  ye  afore  ye  go.  It's  jist 
around  the  corner. " 

Mark  made  some  further  inquiry  in  regard  to 
the  neighborhood,  and  she  gave  him  a  thorough 
description  of  some  of  the  worst  people  in  it, 
concluding  with :  "That  Bill  and  Jinny  Barnes 
are  the  wust  of  'em  all.  Bill 's  'bout  twelve  or 
thirteen  years  old.  Now  if  Sam  had  a  boy  that 
big  he'd  have  some  help  out  'o  him,  but  laws — 
that  Bill  Barnes  aint  no  help  to  his  daddy.  His 
ma  was  lettin'  on  that  Bill  worked  and  earned  a 
little  an'  his  daddy  took  it  away  from  him  fur 
drink,  an'  Bill  sot  right  down  an'  cussed  an' 
swore  he'd  never  work  agin.  But  mebbe  he'll 
change  his  mind  ef  he  goes  t'  the  Hall.  You 
jest  take  a  old  'omans  advice  an'  go  an  see  how 
the  wind  blows  afore  takin'  a  young  lady  there." 

"I'll  do  that,  grandma."    , 

"Now,  if  you  kin  do  anything  with  Bill 
Barnes,  why  it'll  be  time  well  spent.  Ef  he'd 
only  earn  a  little  money  to  buy  his  ma  some  tea 
it  would  be  sich  a  blessin'  fur  the  poor  soul,  fur 
I  don't  see  how  them  Barneses  do  live,  no  how. 


132  THE  WORST  FOE. 

Sam  don't  spend  any  o'  his  earnin's  in  drink  an' 
its  all  we  kin  do  to  live.  We  can't  lay  up  nuthin' 
fur  a  rainy  day,  an'  old  Barnes  is  never  sober 
only  when  he's  in  the  lock-up." 

"I  thank  you  very  much,  grandma,  and  now 
I  must  be  going,  for  I  intend  to  call  on  the 
Barneses,"  said  Mark.  "When  the  lady  comes 
in  this  neighborhood  she  will  call  on  you  first." 

"Ef  ye'lljistlet  us  know  when  yer  comin', 
we'll  fix  up  a  little,"  said  the  old  woman,  her 
eyes  sparkling  brightly  beneath  her  spectacles. 
Sam's  so  proud,  he'd  feel  orful  bad  ef  company 
come  an'  we  warnt  fixed  up." 

"We  will  come  day  after  to-morrow,"  said 
Mark,  and  turning  to  Hannah  added,  '  'you  must 
coax  your  father  to  let  you  come  to  the  Hall ;  oh, 
it  is  much  better  than  the  theatre  or  dime  museum. 
It's  not  like  either." 

When  Mark  was  gone  the  girl  who  had  been 
standing  biting  her  finger  nails  said  : 

"Ainthe  nice,  grandma?     Who  is  he?" 

"Why,  he's  a  rich  man's  boy." 

"He's  not  bad,  an'  I  thought  ye  said  all  rich 
people  was  stuck  up  ?" 

"Most  rich  folks  is  stuck  up,  but  he  don't  seem 
to  be.  May  be  the  Hall 's  made  him  better'n 
the  rest  on  'em." 

The  Barnes  family  was  the  last  on  Mark's  list 
to  visit,  for  from  the  discription  he  had  he  greatly 
dreaded  them.  He  met  witX  fair  success  at  the 


THE  WORST  FOE.  133 

other  houses,  and  many  dirty  youngsters  prom- 
ised to  be  at  the  Mission  Hall  next  Sabbath. 
Mark  at  last  came  to  the  home  of  the  Barneses, 
a  wretched,  tumble-down  hut,  betraying  filthy 
negligence  to  even  the  passer-by.  Mark  entered 
between  two  half  rotted  posts  where  a  gate  had 
once  hung,  but  had  long  since  disappeared.  A 
few  decaying  pickets  were  all  that  was  left  of 
what  had  once  been  a  fence  enclosing  the  prem- 
ises. He  went  to  the  door  and  rapped  several 
times,  but  receiving  no  answer  was  about  to  go 
away,  when  he  heard  a  boy's  voice  scream  : 

"You,  Jinny,  come  here  !" 

Mark  hastened  around  the  side  of  the  house, 
and  when  he  had  turned  the  corner  saw  a  boy 
standing  in  the  rear  yard  with  his  back  toward 
him.  This  was  undoubtedly  the  terrible  Bill 
Barnes.  He  was  barefooted,  ragged  and  dirty, 
and  his  loose  trousers  held  up  by  one  suspender. 
His  uncombed  hair  was  bushed  out  beneath  his 
slouched  hat,  and  even  peeped  through  a  hole 
in  the  crown.  Although  his  face  was  not  seen, 
Mark  knew  it  must  be  as  dirty  as  his  hands. 

"I  tell  yer  Jinny  to  come  here,"  he  again 
screamed.  A  half  grown  girl  appeared  from 
around  the  corner  of  the  house  opposite  Mark, 
at  a  full  run.  Her  dress  was  short,  and  as  dirty 
and  patched  as  her  brother's  clothes,  and  her 
feet  and  legs  were  bare.  There  was  no  covering 
on  her  head  save  the  thick  mass  of  matted  hair. 


134  THE    WORST   FOE. 

"What  d'  yer  want,  Bill?"  she  asked,  coming 
up  to  him. 

For  answer,  Bill  seized  her  by  the  neck  and 
shoulders,  and  dragging  her  to  a  tub  of  dirty 
water  that  stood  near,  plunged  her  head  into  the 
water.  "Thar,  Jin,"  he  cried  as  he  let  her, 
strangling  and  screaming,  get  up, '  'that  fur  eatin' 
my  apple." 

As  soon  as  she  got  the  water  out  of  her  eyes 
she  began  throwing  water  at  Bill  with  both 
hands.  Bill  quickly  got  out  of  harm's  way 
and  began  pelting  her  with  dirt  and  pellets  of 
mud.  Mark,  unobserved,  watched  the  combat 
for  some  time.  Here  were  the  rank  weeds  of 
ignorance  and  selfishness  choking  out  every  good 
germ.  The  longer  Mark  watched  the  more  he 
determined  to  make  Bill  give  him  a  hearing.  At 
last,  tired  of  waiting,  he  called  out : 

"Helloa,  Bill  Barnes,  what  are  you  up  to?" 

Both  Bill  and  his  sister  ceased  hostilities,  and 
for  a  moment  stared  in  open-mouthed  wonder  at 
the  well-dressed  boy. 

"Well,  dandy,  where  did  you  drop  from?" 
Bill  at  last  asked,  at  the  same  time  seizing  a  clod 
of  dirt  and  hitting  Mark  on  the  shoulder.  Mark 
picked  up  some  dirt  and  threw,  hitting  Bill  in  the 
face,  saying: 

"Answer  my  question  first,  Bill."  For  a  mo- 
ment Bill  stared  at  him  in  amazement,  and  then 
he  cried : 


THE   WORST    FOE.  135 

"Darned  ef  ye  aint  a  good  shot,  dandy,  but  I 
bet  ye  can't  lick  me, "  at  the  same  time  taking 
one  or  two  steps  toward  Mark.  But  the  well- 
dressed  boy,  much  to  his  astonishment,  met  him 
half  way,  and  taking  him  by  the  arms  looked 
him  in  the  face  and  said:  "I  am  not  going  to 
fight  you,  Bill,  for  I  have  quit  fighting.  I  am 
larger  and  stronger  and  better  muscled  than  you, 
so,  you  see,  I  would  have  no  trouble  in  whip- 
ping you." 

"Yer  lie,  yer  never  licked  any  body." 

"I  wish  I  never  had.  But  I  tell  you  I  will 
not  fight,  I  leave  that  for  the  dogs. ' ' 

"Yer  a  little  upstart — yer  a  dandy." 

"Well,  if  good  clothes  makes  a  dandy,  I 
always  was  one,  I  can't  help  it.  I'm  not  to 
blame  because  my  father's  well  off.  If  you  do 
not  believe  I  am  the  strongest,  I  will  wrestle 
with  you  and  hold  you  down  until  you  agree 
not  to  fight." 

"I'll  do  it,"  said  Bill.  "Yer  the  first  dandy  I 
ever  seed  that  'd  take  a  friendly  tussle  wi'  a  poor 
boy.  Wont  yer  take  off  yer  coat,  I  don't  like 
to  dirty  it." 

"No,  never  mind — are  you  ready?" 

"Yes." 

Mark's  foot  darted  out  like  lightning  and 
tripped  Bill  to  the  ground,  where  he  held  him 
despite  all  his  struggles. 

"I'll  give  up,"  he  said  at  last. 


136  THE  WORST  FOE. 

"Wont  say  anything  more  about  fighting?" 
No  answer  came.  "I  intend  to  hold  you  here 
until  you  promise  not  to  fight,  for  I  came  here 
to  talk  to  you  and  your  sister.  A  lady  sent  me 
to  see  you." 

"Jinny"  who  had  been  standing  looking  si- 
lently on,  wondering  where  on  earth  that  boy 
came  from,  when  she  heard  a  lady's  name  spoken 
she  hastened  up  to  him  and  asked : 

"I  say,  boy,  is  she  a  rich  lady  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Lives  in  a  big  house  with  a  little  house  on 
top  ?" 

"Yes,  and  has  everything  she  wants.  This 
lady  is  coming  to  see  you." 

"I  wont  say  nuthin'  about  lickin'  yer — let  me 
up,"  said  Bill  Barnes.  "Swear  t'  God  '11  keep 
quiet.  What 's  yer  name  ?" 

"Mark  Day,  and  you  are  Bill  Barnes,"  he 
answered,  at  the  same  time  letting  him  up. 
"This,  I  guess,  is  Jennie,  your  sister." 

"Yes." 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  all  seated  on  the 
ground,  in  the  shade  of  the  house,  talking  very 
pleasantly.  Mark  was  telling  them  of  Mission 
Hall  and  how  well  they  would  be  treated  there. 
Bill  Barnes,  who  had  but  one  idea  of  treat, 
which  was  the  bar-room  idea,  asked  what  kind 
of  liquor  they  kept.  Mark  told  him  they  had 
no  kind  of  drinks,  but  nice  books  and  papers 


MARK  DAY   AS  A  MISSIONARY. 
intend  to  hold  you  here  till  you  promise  not  to  fight.    See  page  136. 


THE  WORST  FOE.  137 

were  given  to  the  scholars,  who  were  taught  .to 
read,  sing  and  dress  well.  This  evidently  suited 
Jennie,  for  she  smiled  agreeably. 

"Other  boys  and  girls  have  promised  to  come, 
and  we  want  you  to  come  also.  Day  after  to- 
morrow this  good  lady  and  Tare  coming  here  to- 
gether to  see  you  about  it." 

"Gosh,  I  can't  go  there,"  said  Bill,  "I  aint 
got  no  clothes  but  these  'ere. " 

" Yes  you  can,"  said  Mark,  "I  have  lots  of 
clothes  and  I  will  bring  you  some." 

"Bully  for  you,  could  yer  bring  Jinny  some, 
too  ?" 

"We'll fix  you  all  up  so  you  can  go." 

"We'll  be  to  hum  when  the  leddy  comes," 
said  Bill.  As  Mark  was  going  away,  he  heard 
Jennie  say : 

"I'll  smut  yer  yet  fer  duckin'  me  in  that  'er 
water,  see  'f  I  don't,  Bill." 

Pauline  and  Mark  made  their  visit  according 
to  arrangements,  and,  though  Pauline  found 
much  to  shock  her  religious  nature,  she  felt  very 
much  encouraged.  Here  was  a  field  of  labor  in 
which  the  harvest  was  ripe.  As  they  rode  home 
in  Pauline's  coupe  she  said  : 

"Mark,  your  missionary  work  bids  fair  to  be 
a  success." 

"I  hope  it  will,"  he  answered  thoughtfully, 
"but  let  us  wait  a  few  weeks  and  see  how  well 
these  children  attend. ' ' 


138  THE   WORST   FOE. 

The  Sabbath  following  nearly  all  those  children 
were  at  Mission  Hall.  Hannah  Brown  had 
wonderful  things  to  tell  her  grandmother  when 
she  returned  home,  the  most  pleasant  of  which 
was,  that  no  box  was  passed  for  money. 

"They  explained  that  the  c'lections  were  taken 
up  at  other  Sunday  Schools  t'  s'port  our  'n,"said 
Hannah. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ONCE  MORE  A  MAN. 

"Yet  less  the  pang  when,  through  the  tedious  hourSj. 
Remembrance  sheds  around  her  genial  showers, 
Calls  back  the  vanished  days  to  rapture  given, 
When  love  was  bliss,  and  beauty  formed  our  heaven.'* 

— Byron. 

T>  Y  the  time  William  Strasmore  had  returned, 
*•*  George  Hammond  had  formed  the  determi- 
nation to  conquer  the  evil  within  him  and  be- 
once  more  a  man.  As  William  entered  the  room, 
George  rose  and  grasping  his  hand,  said  : 

"Through  you  I  have  conquered,  and  will 
conquer*  When  I  found  that  door  locked  my 
first  impulse  was  to  break  it  down,  but  my  better 
j  udgment  had  not  been  entirely  destroyed,  and  I 
knew  full  well  that  you  were  doing  it  for  my  own 
good.  The  worst  foe  to  myself  and  family  was. 
locked  out  until  I  had  time  to  arm  myself  to  fight 
it.  Now  I  am  resolved  to  cut  my  way  through, 
and  conquer  my  old  enemy." 

"May  God  help  you!"  ejaculated  William, 
devoutly.  "I  believe  you  will  conquer,  but  try 
to  overcome  your  doubts  lest  they  destroy  your 
faith,  for  if  you  h*ve  not  faith  to  appeal  to  your 

139 


I4O  THE    WORST   FOE. 

Heavenly  Father,  you  are  in  a  sad  state  indeed. " 

"I  have  often  asked  myself  to-day  why  I  fell 
the  first  time,"  said  George,  thoughtfully. 
'  'There  was  no  excuse  for  me — I  was  forewarned, 
for  I  had  long  been  a  witness  to  the  misery  of 
intemperance,  and  hated  its  works,  and  yet  I  be- 
came a  victim.  I  hate  myself  when  I  think  how 
foolish  I  have  been." 

"Don't  talk  so,  my  friend,  you  should  be 
thankful  that  although  the  evil  still  exists,  you 
are  not  past  redemption.  Have  you  fixed  on 
any  definite  course  of  action  for  the  future  ?  " 

"Yes,  but  I  will  be  governed  somewhat  by  cir- 
cumstances. I  had  intended  going  West,  but 
was  waiting  to  make  suitable  arrangements  for 
taking  my  father's  family  with  me  ;  but  I  will 
wait  no  longer.  I  will  go  as  soon  as  I  can,  and 
make  arrangements  to  take  care  of  them  after- 
ward. I  long  to  get  away  from  my  old  asso- 
ciates and  begin  life  among  a  new  class  of  people 
where  I  will  not  be  so  sorely  tempted." 

William  told  George  that  a  carriage  was  wait- 
ing to  take  them  on  the  promised  drive,  and 
George  being  ready  they  hastened  down  to  it. 
Earth  was  giving  thanks  to  the  sun  for  the  gra- 
cious smiles,  and  luxuriant  beauty  in  vermillion 
and  emerald  was  to  be  seen  on  every  hand.  They 
left  the  town  and  drove  out  into  the  country. 
The  rain  of  the  night  before  had  quieted  the 
rising  dust,  and  man  could  gratefully  enjoy  the 


THE   WORST   FOE.  14! 

brightness  and  freshness  of  the  day.  Birds 
were  singing  from  their  leafy  bowers,  and  all  na- 
ture seemed  to  have  donned  her  holiday  attire. 

William  Strasmore  resolved  not  to  allow  George 
Hammond  to  escape  him.  He  had  begun  the 
good  work  of  reformation,  and  he  determined 
to  keep  it  up  until  he  had  succeeded  in  effectually 
eradicating  the  evil  in  this  talented  young  man. 
Two  weeks  later,  as  they  were  driving  together 
in  the  park,  one  would  hardly  think  this  neat, 
intelligent  looking  young  man  was  the  bloated  to- 
per who  had  been  taken  from  the  ditch.  True  there 
yet  lingered  about  his  face  some  of  the  evidences 
of  debauchery.  He  was  not  as  strong  and  pure 
as  before  he  gave  way  to  dissipation.  The 
thoughtless  young  man  who  indulges  in  a  de- 
bauch will  not  escape  scot  free  ;  injured  nature 
will  sooner  or  later  bring  retribution  on  the  one 
who  dares  insult  her.  They  passed  Pauline  and 
her  mother  who  were  out  driving,  and  William 
by  lifting  his  hat  and  bowing,  acknowledged  their 
smiles  of  recognition.  George  Hammond  knew 
them,  though  it  had  been  years  since  he  had  seen 
either;  and  they, in  his  changed  condition  failed 
to  recognize  him. 

"How  bright  and  beautiful  Pauline  has  grown, " 
said  George  Hammond  with  a  sigh. 

"Yes,  and  her  beauty  of  character  outrivals 
the  beauty  of  her  face,"  said  William  enthusias- 
tically. "George,  she  is  to  be  my  wife." 


142  THE  WORST  FOE. 

George  started  violently,  and  a  look  of  pain 
swept  over  his  face,  but  in  a  few  moments  it  was 
gone,  and  gaining  control  over  his  feelings,  he 
.solemnly  said : 

"I  know  no  other  more  worthy  of  you.  May 
God  bless  you  both." 

"You  cannot  dispense  with  God  in  common 
•conversation,  even  though  you  doubt  his  exist- 
ence," said  our  hero. 

"It  is  a  habit,  a  custom,"  George  answered, 
gloomily. 

"But  we  all  have  the  habit,  and  I  think  it  is 
really  something  more  powerful  than  a  habit. 
The  idea  of  a  God  of  some  kind  seems  innate  in 
the  human  consciousness.  Why  is  it  that  you  never 
find  a  savage  too  low  in  the  scale  of  civilization, 
not  to  have  some  idea  of  a  supreme  being?  It 
maybe  God,  Great  Spintor  Josh,  but  it  is  always 
the  one  idea  of  infinite  power.  When  in  distress 
it  is  as  natural  to  call  on  our  Heavenly  Father  for 
aid  as  it  is  for  the  child  when  injured  to  run  to  its 
mother.  Turn  Christian,  George,  it  will  help 
you  ;  it  will  be  one  bright  ray  in  your  clouded 
existence.  It  is  not  the  wealth  which  makes 
Mrs.  Denesmore  and  her  daughter  so  bright  and 
happy,  but  the  Christian  spirit  shining  from  pure 
souls  within." 

George  Hammond  sighed,  and  William  Stras- 
more  misinterpreting  his  distress,  said : 

'  'I  suppose  you  are  not  acquainted  with  Miss 
Denesmore." 


THE  WORST  FOE.  143 

"Yes  I  am,"  said  George  in  a  hot,  jerky  man- 
ner, which  betrayed  a  strange  emotion.  "We 
went  to  school  together  when  children,  though 
I  was  a  big  boy  and  she  a  little  girl.  She  and 
sister  Deena  were  of  the  same  age,  and  great 
friends.  But  after  we  quit  grammar  school,  she 
was  sent  away  to  a  female  academy,  and  we 
never  saw  her  any  more.  I  hope  she  will  never 
know  how  I  have  fallen,  for  she  will  hate  me 
worse  than  I  hate  myself." 

"You  are  mistaken,  George.  She  knows  ot 
your  fall,  and  you  have  her  warmest  sympathy. " 

"Who  told  her?  "  George  asked  sharply. 

"Mark  Day." 

"Some  more  of  the  work  of  the  Day  family," 
and  William  was  astounded  to  see  the  furious 
glances  which  darted  from  the  eyes  of  George 
Hammond.  After  a  few  moments,  George  grew 
calmer  and  he  added,  "Mark  is  a  very  bad  boy 
is  he  not  ?  " 

"He  was  a  very  bad  boy  at  one  time,  but  now 
he  promises  to  be  an  exceptionally  good  lad. 
He  is  rather  odd  it  is  true,  and  adheres  to  some 
of  his  old  but  least  exceptionable  traits.  His 
fun  loving  nature  gets  him  into  little  scrapes  even 
yet.  I  met  him  after  he  had  told  Pauline  ot 
your » troubles,  and  with  his  face  as  sober  as  a 
judge  he  began  in  his  odd  way :  'You'd  better 
go  to  Pauline  for  I  left  her  awfully  blue.  I  told 
her  about  an  old  chum  of  her's  getting  drunk. 


144  THE    WORST   FOE. 

I  didn't  know  it  was  a  particular  chum  you  know, 
but  it  was,  and  she  went  to  crying.  I  don't 
know  what  ought  to  be  done  with  me  for  making 
her  cry,  but  I  guess  if  any  one  can  cheer  her  up 
it's  you. '  When  I  found  Pauline  she  was  still 
in  tears,  George,  and  for  you." 

George's  lips  quivered,  but  he  dare  not  speak, 
and  William  continued :  '  'She  told  me  something 
of  your  boyhood,  how  hopeful  she  and  all  your 
friends  were  of  you,  although  you  had  little  at 
home  to  encourage  you.  But  she  blames  herself 
very  much  for  your  downfall.  She  says  you 
were  separated  by  circumstances,  and  had  almost 
dropped  out  of  her  mind  until  she  heard  of  you 
from  Mark.  She  is  pleased  at  your  good  reso- 
lution, and  determination  to  leave  the  city  where 
temptation  awaits  you  on  every  hand." 

'  'She  should  not  censure  herself  for  my  wrong 
doing."  said  George,  as  William  stopped  talking. 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  William  replied. 
"Pauline  did  not  intentionally  err,  but  like  many 
others  on  this  important  question  of  temperance, 
thought  she  was  not  her  brothers'  keeper.  Paul- 
ine realized  your  peculiar  position,  and  wanted 
to  keep  up  her  friendly  social  feeling  with 
yourself  and  sister,  though  you  seemed  to  grow 
cool  and  distant.  This  she  attributed  to  your 
sister's  sensitiveness  regarding  the  difference  in 
your  social  scales,  and  only  respected  you  the 
more  for  it.  Her  circle  of  friends  was  very  large, 


THE   WORST   FOE.  145 

and  she  finally  let  you  drop.  This  is  the 
way  of  the  world,  and  it  is  wrong.  Had  she 
kept  alive  the  friendship  and  interest  she  really 
felt  in  you,  you  might  have  been  encouraged  to 
keep  in  the  right  path.  She  could  have  cheered 
your  sister's  lonely  heart  and  encouraged  you. 
When  do  you  leave  for  the  West?" 

"To-morrow  evening." 

"Then  Pauline  and  I  will  call  at  your  house 
this  evening,  and  rekindle  the  fires  of  friendship 
which  beamed  so  brightly  years  ago,  and  we  will 
try  to  cheer  and  comfort  your  sisters  and  mother 
until  you  send  for  them  to  join  you  in  your  west- 
ern home." 

That  evening  when  William  and  Pauline  called 
at  the  miserable  cottage  of  Joe  Hammond,  Mo- 
denia  met  them  at  the  door  with  mingled  feelings 
of  pleasure  and  pain.  She  longed,  and  yet 
feared  to  greet  her  school-mate  as  warmly  as  she 
had  of  old,  and  when  Pauline  threw  her  arms 
about  her  neck  and  kissed  her  as  tenderly  as  she 
used  to  do  in  the  days  of  her  childhood,  poor 
crushed  Modenia  broke  down  and  shed  copious 
floods  of  tears  while  Pauline  pressed  her  to  her 
breast.  As  soon  as  she  could,  Deena  recovered 
her  self-possession,  and  the  cheerful  manner  of 
Pauline  brought  a  smile  again  to  her  face,  and  a 
slight  tint  to  her  cheek.  Mrs.  Hammond  who 
was  now  able  to  walk  about,  joined  the  group, 
ami  Lillie  sang  sweet  baby  songs,  and  her  young 

•\0) 


146  THE    WORST    FOE. 

heart  was  strangely  gladdened.  All  seemed  to 
exist  in  a  brighter  atmosphere  than  they  had  ever 
before  known.  George  was  cheerful,  and  bright 
hopes  of  the  future  seemed  to  dawn  for  the 
Hammonds.  Pauline  proposed  that  they  form 
a  little  party  from  those  present  to  accompany 
George  to  the  depot  and  see  him  off  on  the  train 
next  evening.  At  mention  of  George's  depart- 
ure, a  sad  look  came  over  Mrs.  Hammond's 
features,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Pauline 
who  discovered  the  struggle  now  going  on  in  the 
mother's  breast,  went  to  her  side  and  said  : 

"Mrs.  Hammond,  William  and  I  have  talked 
it  all  over,  and  it  is  for  the  best.  Of  course  you 
will  be  lonesome,  but  it  will  not  be  for  a  very 
long  time.  George  will  soon  have  a  beautiful 
home  for  you  in  the  great  West,  and  you  will  all 
go  there." 

But  a  dread  uncertainty  had  fallen  over  the 
group  like  an  unseen  mantle,  and  all  brightness 
and  joy  were  gone. 

'  'Were  it  any  other  temptation  than  intemper- 
ance," thought  William  Strasmore,  "he  could 
escape  from  it.  But  he  may  run  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth,  and  the  demon  still  waits  for  him. 
THE  WORST  FOE  is  before,  behind,  and  on  every 
side,  and  everywhere  ready  to  seize  upon  the 
unwary  at  an  unguarded  moment. " 

William  longed  to  tell  George'  of  the  powers 
of  faith  to  save,  but  that  skeptical  nature  would 


THE   WORST   FOE.  147 

not  believe  him,  and  knowing  that  more  earnest 
appeals  than  he  had  made  would  be  useless,  he 
was  silent.  As  William  and  Pauline  rose  to  go, 
the  door  opened,  and  Joe  Hammond,  more  than 
half-seas  over,  entered. 

"W'y,  ah!  good  evenin' ! "  he  said,  steady- 
ing himself  on  his  unsteady  legs  as  well  as  he 
could,  while  his  clothes,  features  and  manners 
betrayed  his  condition. 

"My  name  is  Strasmore,"  said  William, going 
to  the  inebriate  man  and  taking  his  hand.  ' '  I  am 
glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Hammond,  for  I've 
wanted  to  make  your  acquaintance  for  some 
time." 

*  *  Ye  do !  Well,  I  guess  ye  want  to  lecture 
me,  don't  ye  ?  Well,  I— I'm  a  free  man,  an' 
know  jest  what  I'm  doin'." 

' '  We  called  to  see  your  son  before  he  goes 
away  to  seek  a  home  in  the  West. " 

"Yes,  George  shouldn't  go  'way — hie — fool- 
ish notion.  Don't  do  no  good.  Thinks  he  can't 
quit  drink — and  stay.  All  nonsense.  Drinkin' 
a  little,  ye  know,  don't  hurt  anybody — don't 
hurt  me." 

"You  think  it  don't?  It  will  be  the  ruin 
of  your  soul  and  body  if  you  don't  quit  it. 
George  is  right;  he  see's  his  danger  and  flies 
from  temptation." 

' '  Young  man,  ye  needn't  lecture  me.  Guess 
I  know." 


148  THE   WORST   FOE. 

"It  is  growing  late,  now,  but  I  will  see  you 
some  other  time  under  more  favorable  circum- 
stances," said  William  Strasmore. 

Hammond  staggered  through  the  room,  utter- 
ing something  about  meddlesome  fools  not  know- 
ing when  to  attend  to  their  own  business,  and  the 
guests  of  the  Hammonds  took  their  leave. 

The  evening  for  George's  departure  came. 
His  mother  hung  sobbing  on  his  neck,  and  he 
assured  her  that  he  would  be  firm  in  his  resolu- 
tion to  resist  all  temptation.  Somehow  the 
mother  felt  impressed  that  it  would  be  the  last 
time  she  would  ever  see  her  son  again.  Accom- 
panied by  his  sister,  Deena,  William  and  Pauline, 
he  set  out  for  the  depot. 

Mrs.  Hammond,  with  her  face  bowed  in  her 
hands,  wept,  unconscious  of  the  little  child  who 
stood  at  her  side  trying  to  comfort  her. 

"Don't  ty,  mamma,  don't.  Dod  will  tate 
care  of  brother. " 

"  Mamma's  darling  !"  cried  Mrs.  Hammond, 
taking  the  little  form  in  her  arms,  "yes,  God 
will  take  care  of  us  all,  my  child." 

When  George,  his  sister  and  friends  reached 
the  depot  he  found  the  train  belated,  and  his 
father  there  to  bid  him  adieu.  As  usual,  his 
father  was  in  liquor,  and  declaring  himself  the 
happiest  man  in  the  world.  His  bliss  was  easily 
disturbed,  however,  and  his  family  usually  took 
care  not  to  cross  him  in  any  way.  Seeing  that 


THE  WORST  FOE.  149 

tears  were  in  Deena's  eyes  he  staggered  up  to 
her  and  said  : 

' '  No  more  o'  that — all  nonsense.  No  use  to 
cry — just  goin'  away  short  time — hie — t'  sow 
wild  oats.  He  '11  come  back  to  the  old  man — 
wiser  'n  he  went."  Then  staggering  up  to 
George,  with  a  desire  to  impress  all  present 
with  his  importance,  he  added:  "Well,  George, 
when  you  git  over  this  wild  goose  chase,  come 
back.  If  yer  out  o'  money  an*  want  help,  jest 
call  on  the  old  man,  ye  know — hie." 

The  train  came  thundering  in  at  last,  and 
George  kissed  his  sister,  bade  his  father  and 
friends  adieu,  and  went  aboard.  Deena  saw 
her  brother  at  the  window  waving  his  hand- 
kerchief. She  kept  up  bravely  until  the  train 
started  \  but  when  his  loved  form  was  no  longer 
in  sight,  she  burst  into  tears.  Pauline  comforted 
her  the  bost  she  could,  and  getting  in  their  car- 
riage they  were  soon  whirling  away  toward 
Modenia's  humble  home. 

George  Hammond  had  gone  out  into  the 
world  to  n.eet  temptation  and  trials  on  every 
hand.  He  had  fallen  once,  and  might  he  not 
fall  again  ?  In  the  Old  World,  when  oppression 
and  persecution  crushes  the  weak,  they  turn 
their  fainting  eyes  to  America,  the  land  of  the 
free  and  home  of  the  brave.  The  persecuted 
who  have  flocked  to  fair  Columbia's  shores  are 
legion.  They  come  to  this  land  of  freedom 


I5O  THE    WORST    FOE. 

because  the  voice  of  the  people  is  supreme  law. 
But  is  there  perfect  freedom  in  our  glorious  Re- 
public ?  Is  George  Hammond  free  to  act  accord- 
ing to  reason  ?  Did  his  reason  bring  him  into  the 
ditch  ?  No ;  it  was  his  appetite,  his  weakness. 
Is  that  all  ?  Behold,  the  ewe  lambs  of  the  poor 
are  being  sacrificed  hourly  in  free  Columbia, 
where  the  voice  of  the  people  is  supreme  law. 
David's  sentence  for  sacrificing  the  poor  man's 
lamb  was  :  ' '  Behold,  I  will  raise  up  evil  against 
thee  out  of  thine  own  house;  the  sword  shall 
never  depart  from  thine  house." 

We  shrink  from  viewing  the  future  of  our 
American  Government.  Unless  we  change  we 
shall  soon  stand  on  the  tomb  of  our  independ- 
ence. Put  yourself  in  a  mother's  or  sister's 
place,  when  one  more  precious  than  a  pearl 
of  great  price  goes  forth  to  be  tempted  by 
ruinous,  seductive  demons  on  every  hand,  and 
then  answer  if  we  are  free.  There  is  no  safety 
— not  even  a  city  of  refuge  into  which  we  may 
fly.  It  may  be  a  husband,  a  son  or  a  brother  in 
bondage,  and  the  wail  of  anguish,  the  cry  for 
freedom  from  the  reign  of  King  Alcohol  goes 
up  on  every  side.  If  you  believe  not  what  we 
say,  dear  reader,  go  to  any  city  or  town  and 
enter  those  streets  where  crime  and  squalid 
misery  abounds.  On  every  side  you  will  see 
pale,  tear  stained  faces  in  the  bondage  of  misery, 
and  bloated,  swollen  faces  in  the  bondage  of  in- 


THE   WORST    FOE.  15 1 

temperance,  all  appealing  to  you  for  freedom. 
Fathers,  husbands,  brothers,  and  voters  from 
every  quarter  of  our  broad,  free  land,  Modenia 
Hammond,  her  mother  and  thousands  of  others 
are  crying  to  you  for  relief.  Do  not  turn  a  deaf 
ear  to  their  wail,  but  in  remembrance  of  those 
whom  your  heart  holds  most  dear,  never,  never, 
NEVER,  vote  for  license  again.  Think  of  George 
Hammond  on  his  midnight  train  trying  to  fly 
from  a  temptation  from  which  there  was  no 
escape.  Oh,  that  his  earnest  supplication  could 
reach  every  heart.  In  the  anguish  of  his  soul  he 
cries:  "Oh,  God,  if  there  be  a  God,  keep  me 
in  the  hour  of  temptation — help  me  to  be  a 
man  !  "  Poor  slave,  will  your  shackles  never 
be  broken  ?  Think,  dear  reader,  when  you 
cast  your  vote,  of  the  hopes,  happiness  and 
prospects  that  hang  thereon  and  are  liable  to  be 
blasted  or  shattered  by  the  casting  of  that  little 
ballot,  and  for  the  sake  of  those  you  love,  for 
the  good  of  humanity,  for  the  future  welfare  of 
yourself  and  nation,  and  for  the  sake  of  freedom, 

WTE  FOR  PROHIBITION. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

LOST  TO  EARTH,  GAINED  TO  HEAVEN. 

"  The  world  recedes,  it  disappears ! 
Heaven  opens  on  my  eyes !     My  ears 
With  sounds  seraphic  ring  ! 
Lend,  lend  your  wings  !    I  mount !  I  fly ! 
O  Grave  !  where  is  thy  victory  ? 
O  Death  !  where  is  thy  sting  ?  "  — Popt. 

DR.  DENESMORE  and  his  beautiful  wife 
might  be  living  in  bliss  or  misery,  George 
Hammond  might  rise  or  fall,  it  mattered  not  to 
the  inhabitants  of  the  west  end  of  Staunton,  and 
only  excited  the  spiteful  comment  that  the  former 
were  stuck-up  big-bugs,  and  the  latter  no  better 
than  other  people  who  didn't  try  to  carry  their 
heads  so  high.  But  it  is  an  interesting  season 
at  West  End.  Granny  Brown  has  taken  her 
knitting  and  gone  over  to  Mrs.  Barnes,  a  thing 
she  has  not  done  for  months ;  but  realizing  the 
fact  that  she  had  first  cited  Mark  Day  to  Bill 
and  "Jinney,"  she  thought  she  would  hint  to 
Mrs.  Barnes  how  much  they  owed  her.  Be- 
sides, it  would  be  very  pleasant  to  communi- 
cate what  "  Hannar  had  heern  to  the  Hall 
about  that  young  lawyer  goin'  to  m^  ry  Miss 

152 


THE  WORST  FOE.  1 53 

Denesmore. "     To  her  chagrin    she  found  that 
the  Barnes  knew  all  about  it  themselves. 

"  Bill  heerd  all  about  it  himself,"  said  his 
mother,  as  soon  as  granny  mentioned  the  sub- 
ject. "We  all  think  its  the  best  kind  o'  a 
match.  Both  on  'em  are  so  kind,  allers  remem- 
berin'  the  pore.  I  wish  we  had  more  sich  peo- 
ple." Then  lowering  her  voice  she  added  :  "I 
tell  ye,  granny,  ef  there  was  more  such  men  as 
Lawyer  Strasmore,  our  men  wouldn't  drink 
much  longer — he'd  make  'em  ashamed  o'  their 
selves." 

"Sam  says  a  man  'ts  mean  'nough  to  git 
drunk  will  drink  anyhow,  an'  no  'n  can  help 
it,"  said  Granny  Brown,  with  no  little  emphasis. 
Mrs.  Barnes  at  last  seemed  to  realize  the  supe- 
riority of  the  Browns,  and  granny  became  quite 
agreeable.  She  remained  until  late,  when  she 
declared  she  must  go,  as  "  Sam'l  wanted  all  his 
folks  home  at  meal  time." 

There  are  many  like  Granny  Brown,  who  go 
through  life  grumblers  and  cynics,  because  no- 
one  seems  to  realize  their  superiority.  One 
acknowledging  glance  might  put  them  in  as 
amiable  frame  of  mind  as  it  did  Mrs.  Brown. 
She  praised  the  general  favorite  of  West  End, 
William  Strasmore, — said  she  knew  there  was 
nothing  common  about  Miss  Denesmore,  and 
slyly  told  Mrs.  Barnes  that  "Jinney  is  gittin^ 
right  peert  lookin'." 


154  THE   WORST   FOE. 

In  higher  circles,  as  well  as  among  the  lowly, 
Strasmore  was  a  theme  for  discussion.  Sensible 
parents  pointed  to  him  as  a  model  for  their  grow- 
ing sons.  Only  three  or  four  years  had  he  been 
among  them,  and  unknown  and  poor,  he  had 
reached  such  a  place  in  his  profession  that  all 
looked  on  him  in  admiration.  Only  one  day 
more  until  he  was  to  wed  the  woman  who  was 
dearer  to  him  than  all  the  world  beside.  Never 
had  a  friendly  world  smiled  more  promisingly  on 
a  coming  union. 

Pauline  was  arrayed  in  her  wedding  costume 
just  to  see  how  it  would  fit.  It  was  a  dress  of 
white  corded  silk,  long  square  train,  skirt  front 
trimmed  with  narrow  plaitings  of  the  same  ovei 
drapery,  with  orange-blossom  fringe ;  tulle  veil, 
fastened  with  a  wreath  of  orange  blossoms. 
Her  father,  mother  and  Mark  Day,  who  spent 
most  of  his  time  at  Mr.  Denesmore's,  were  called 
in  to  admire  her  costume. 

"  Maria  wouldn't  put  on  all  her  outfit  before 
her  wedding  day,"  said  Mark. 

"  Why?  "  asked  Mrs.  Denesmore. 

' '  She  said  it  was  bad  luck.  Wouldn't  she 
be  scotching  if  she  knew  that  I  told  on  her? 
But  I  wish  you  hadn't  put  on  that  wreath,  Pau- 
line. What  if  it  should  be  bad  luck  ?  " 

"  It  will  fail  this  time,  and  prove  to  the  super- 
stitious that  bad  omens  are  fallible,"  said  Pauline 
gaily ;  then,  to  change  the  subject,  she  added : 


THE  WORST  FOE.  155 

1 '  So  you  say,  Mark,  that  Ernest  will  not  be 
here  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  No  !  I  told  him  I  thought  it  shabby  in  him 
to  go  off  just  before  your  wedding.  He  said 
business  before  pleasure,  but  on  such  extra 
occasions  as  marriages  or  funerals,  business 
ought  to  be  set  aside."  Glancing  from  the 
window  he  saw  William  Strasmore  coming  up 
the  walk  toward  the  house,  and  assuring  Pauline 
that  he  would  be  on  hand  on  the  morrow,  Mark 
excused  himself  and  left  the  house.  Her  father 
and  mother  also  left  the  room,  that  William 
might  meet  his  bride  in  her  wedding  attire 
alone.  She  met  him,  and  a  smile  of  pleasure 
was  on  the  face  of  her  future  husband. 

"  My  Pauline  !  "  he  said,  clasping  her  in  his 
arms. 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  sitting  on  the 
sofa,  side  by  side,  talking  as  only  lovers  can. 

' '  Ernest  Day  says  he  cannot  be  at  our  wed- 
ding," said  Pauline. 

"Why?" 

"  He  left  the  city  three  days  ago  on  business." 

' '  Strange !  It's  not  usual  for  him  to  be  so 
engrossed  in  business.  I  hope  it  does  not  dis- 
appoint him,  however.  Had  we  not  better  call 
on  Mrs.  Hammond  this  evening,  Pauline  ?  " 

' '  Yes,  we  had  better  make  them  a  farewell 
call  ?  Deena  said  that  she  dreaded  our  two 
weeks'  absence.  They  have  not  heard  from 


j  56  THE  WORST  FOE. 

George,  yet;  lam  afraid  he  has  falleq    again.'* 

"  I  have  strong  faith  in  George's  firmness.  If 
there  ever  was  a  man  who  had  will  power  suffi- 
cient to  resist  temptation  it  is  he.  Bat  we  know 
there  are  few  who  of  themselves  citn  resist.  I 
shall  not  lose  faith  in  him,  unless  he  compels  me 
by  his  own  acts  to  do  so.  It  is  strange  that  he 
has  not  written  home — very  strange.  He  may 
be  ill." 

"  He  may,  but  they  have  suffered  so  much 
from  intemperance  that  they  lay  every  ill  to  it. 
It  is  fearful  to  contemplate  the  woe  caused  by 
intemperance." 

' '  I  know  it,  Pauline.  None  are  safe  while  the 
evil  is  allowed  to  exist  among  us." 

Shuddering,  the  bride-elect  said :  "  If  I  should 
see  my  loved  ones  going  to  destruction  as  Deena 
has,  it  would  surely  break  my  heart." 

"  Let  us  hope,  Pauline,  that  you  never  may," 
said  William.  '*  But  you  are  to  grow  stronger 
through  trials  and  suffering.  Often  great  trials 
are  for  the  good  of  humanity,  for  one  never 
realizes  the  sorrows  of  others  until  placed  in  the 
furnace  of  affliction.  This  talk  is  unnecessary, 
Pauline,  for  you  will  only  see  the  shadow  of 
such  trials." 

"I  can  make  an  effort  to  relieve  others  with- 
out being  tried  in  the  furnace.  Guy  would 
smile  if  he  heard  such  sober  talk  from  me.  He 
would  want  to  know  who  I  most  feared  would 


THE   WORST    FOE.  I  57 

fall,  father,  you  or  himself.  If  ever  I  have 
great  sorrow  it  will  be  I  that  make  it.  I  fear 
that  my  future  will  be  so  pleasant  that  I  will  for- 
get all  about  the  sorrows  of  others,  and  you  will 
be  too  kind  to  remind  me  that  I  am  growing 
selfish." 

"Never  fear,  Pauline,  there's  not  a  selfish  trait 
in  the  Denesmore  family.  If  there  had  been 
much  selfishness  about  Guy,  I  would  have  dis- 
covered it  in  our  college  days.  I  will  go  now. 
I  just  came  to  see  how  my  bride  would  look  to- 
morrow, and  to  ask  you  to  go  with  me  to  Mrs. 
Hammond's  this  evening." 

When  left  alone,  Pauline,  with  just  the  least 
bit  of  vanity  so  natural  to  woman,  surveyed  her- 
self again  in  the  mirror  and  said : 

"It's  as  nice  as  I  could  ask.  All  are  pleased 
with  it,  and  I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart,  even 
if  it  did  not  suit  me,  to  quarrel  with  the  poor, 
little,  tired  seamstress  who  has  labored  so  faith- 
fully to  please  me.  What  sober  thoughts  for 
me  to  have,  and  what  sober  talk  for  William,  on 
the  eve  of  our  wedding,  too."  She  called  the 
seamstress,  who  was  waiting  in  an  adjoining 
apartment  to  remove  her  dress.  "Miss  Briggs, 
you  may  take  them  off  now,  if  you  please. 
Did  you  ever  hear  that  it  was  bad  luck  for  one 
to  have  on  her  wedding  outfit  before  her  wed- 
ding day?" 

"Yes  mam,  but  there  is  nothing  in  it.     If  any- 


Ij8  THE   WORST   FOE. 

thing  bad  does  happen,  they  lay  it  to  that,  and 
if  it  does'nt  happen  it's  forgotten.  You  need 
not  worry  about  it. " 

"I  shall  not,  for  I  am  not  superstitious.  Miss 
Briggs,  would  you  like  a  vacation  before  com- 
mencing our  work  for  the  autumn.  Mamma 
will  be  very  lonesome  while  I  am  gone,  and  if 
you  could  stay  with  her  until  we  return,  and 
walk  or  drive  with  her  and  keep  her  company, 
while  you  rest,  it  would  be  so  pleasant  for  her." 

Miss  Briggs  was  gratefully  surprised,  and 
thanked  Miss  Pauline  very  much.  Pauline  was 
ready  when  William  came  to  take  her  to  see 
Mrs.  Hammond  and  Deena.  It  was  late  when  they 
returned,  and  as  William  Strasmore  sat  by  her 
side  in  the  parlor  he  said : 

"There  is  one  beautiful  picture  before  my 
eyes  which  will  never  fade.  It  is  the  picture  of 
my  bride  for  to-morrow  as  she  first  appeared  in 
her  robes." 

"I  have  a  jewel  of  a  thought  in  the  knowledge 
.of  a  true  man's  love,  a  love  of  which  no  earthly 
power  can  deprive  me. " 

"Pauline,  do  not  forget  that  earth  is  a  power. 
It  is  not  well  to  place  our  affections  on  an 
earthly  idol.  Integrity  alone  can  fortify  us  fora 
stormy  life." 

"Don't  talk  of  a  stormy  life,"  said  Pauline 
drawing  closer  to  him.  "Why  can't  we  avoid 
sad  topics  to-day. " 


THE    WORST    FOE.  159 

"Because  we  are  thoughtful,"  he  answered 
with  a  sad  smile.  "I  must  be  going  now,  so 
think  no  more  of  our  talk." 

He  arose,  and  she  followed  him  to  the  door. 
The  moon  was  shining  bright  and  clear,  but  a  few 
dark  clouds  were  flitting  over  the  face  of  the 
sky.  He  had  kissed  her  good-night  and  started 
down  the  walk,  when  suddenly  he  seemed  seized 
by  an  irresistible  impulse,  and  returning  to  her 
side  as  she  stood  in  the  entrance,  he  clasped 
her  in  his  warm  embrace,  and  kissed  her  again 
and  again  on  lips  and  forehead,  murmuring  with 
unspeakable  tenderness : 

"May  Heaven  shield  and  protect  you  my 
darling— my  life — my  all." 

She  heard  and  knew  all,  but  before  she  could 
speak  he  was  gone,  and  she  was  sitting  alone  in 
front  of  the  window  watching  his  retreating 
figure. 

"What  does  it  all  mean?"  she  asked  herself 
with  a  sigh,  and  then  as  the  clock  in  the  hall 
struck  midnight  she  hastily  arose  and  went  to 
her  bed-room  and  was  soon  in  the  land  of 
dreams. 

Why  did  William  send  up  a  petition  for  the 
protection  of  his  beloved  Pauline  as  he  imprinted 
a  kiss  on  her  forehead.  Did  he  doubt  himself, 
or  was  it  the  admonition  from  the  other  and 
better  world,  impressing  him  that  she  would 
need  his  prayers,  and  the  remembrance  of  his 


l6O  THE   WORST   FOE. 

parting  benediction  would  be  a  solace  in  the 
dark  days  that  were  to  come.  It  is  well  that  the 
veil  screening  the  future  cannot  be  lifted.  If 
Pauline  could  have  seen  what  the  morrow  held 
in  store  for  her,  could  she  have  borne  it  as  well 
as  when  that  morrow  came  ?  No,  '  'according  to 
the  day  is  the  strength  thereof  with  His  own." 
To-morrow  is  only  the  beginning  of  the  sorrowful 
years  which  will  follow,  but  "He  giveth  His  be- 
loved rest." 

The  same  impulse  which  led  William  back  to 
Pauline's  side,  caused  him  to  leave  the  house  at 
a  rapid  pace.  His  way  led  down  the  avenue 
and  across  a  common  on  which  still  remained  a 
few  giant  oaks,  the  last  of  a  once  mighty  forest, 
standing  far  apart  like  grim  sentinels.  Did  he  see 
that  dark  form  crouching  behind  one  of  those  great 
oaks,  and  did  he  know  that  those  basilisk  eyes 
had  been  on  him  since  he  had  left  the  house  of 
his  intended  wife  ?  No.  With  the  prayer  still  on 
his  lips  for  the  one  he  loves  most  dear,  he  con- 
tinues on  his  way.  The  moon,  which  has  shone 
in  such  magnificent  splendor  all  the  evening, 
suddenly  hides  her  face  behind  a  dark  cloud  as 
though  unwilling  to  be  a  witness  to  the  scene 
which  is  to  follow.  As  William  is  passing  one  of 
those  tall,  sentry-like  oaks,  there  is  a  blinding 
flash,  a  sharp,  quick  report,  and  with  a  stifled 
groan  he  staggers  and  falls  upon  the  ground  to 
rise  no  more.  The  dark  assassin  now  emerges 


THE  WORST  FOE.  l6l 

from  behind  the  tree,  and  gazing  on  his  victim, 
hisses  through  teeth  set  with  passion  : 

"One  temperance  fanatic  and  one  meddling 
fool  less." 

Who  will  say  it  was  not  that  loving  mother, 
whose  memory  had  ever  been  fondly  cherished 
by  her  son,  who  first  welcomed  him  across  the 
dark  river  ?  Was  it  not  her  gentle  voice  that 
tenderly  explained  to  him  the  glorious  change. 
The  ills  of  life  all  passed  he  had  entered  into  his 
rest.  Was  it  not  at  her  side  he  knelt  while  the 
great  love  of  his  soul  poured  out  a  thanksgiving 
to  the  Author  of  his  being,  that  he  had  at  last 
come  to  enjoy  an  eternal  existence.  The  short 
probation  of  earth  was  over  and  he  had  entered 
into  an  eternal  abode  with  the  blest. 

The  sad  moon  peeped  out  from  behind  the 
cloud  like  a  frightened  creature.  A  dark  form, 
as  motionless  as  a  stone,  lay  beneath  the  tree. 
The  hat  had  rolled  away  and  the  wind  was  gently 
playing  with  that  auburn  hair,  growing  every  mo- 
ment more  damp  in  the  falling  dew. 

Oh,  Pauline  —  bride  of  the  morrow  —  how  can 
you  sleep  so  sweetly  and  peacefully  on  your 
downy  bed,  when  he,  whom  you  love  dearer 
than  life,  lies  so  cold  and  rigid  on  the  bare  earth, 
out  there  alone. 


01) 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

AT  THE  HOME  OF  HIS  CHILDHOOD. 

"Here  first  remembered  be  the  joyous  band, 
Who  hailed  him  chief,  obedient  to  command, 
Whojoined  with  him  in  every  boyish  sport, 
Their  first  adviser  and  thrir  last  resort." 

— Byron. 

FROM  a  sweet  refreshing  sleep  Pauline  awoke 
on  the  morning  that  was  to  be  her  wedding 
day.  She  arose,  made  a  hasty  toilet,  and  kneel- 
ing by  her  bedside  said  her  prayers.  Then  aris- 
ing she  went  to  the  window  and  drew  the  cur- 
tain aside  and  looked  out  upon  the  beautiful 
world.  The  sun,  which  had  risen  an  hour  or 
more,  was  shining  in  all  its  splendor,  as  she 
looked  out  upon  the  lawn  and  grove  where  the 
mocking-birds  dwelt.  She  tried  to  banish  the 
sad  presentiments  which  would  occasionally  steal 
over  her. 

"This  is  unnatural  for  me,"  she  said  to  her- 
self pressing  her  face  against  the  window-pane, 
"I  am  usually  light-hearted.  Why  is  this?  I 
wish  Willie  was  here  !  I  declare,  I  am  trembling, 
and  I  wonder  what  makes  me  do  so.  I  will  go 

162 


THE   WORST   FOE.  163 

to  mother,  for  I  must  not  be  so  nervous  when 
it's  to  be  our  wedding  day." 

Her  heart  almost  stilled  its  beating  at  this  mo- 
ment for  she  heard  sounds  of  alarm  and  excite- 
ment below.  Was  it  reality  or  was  it  only  her 
fancy,  for  she  was  sure  she  heard  some  one 
sobbing.  Her  heart  wildly  beating  and  her 
breath  coming  by  short  gasps  at  the  certainty  of 
some  impending  evil,  she  hastened  down  below. 
A  cloud  of  anguish  was  about  to  hover  over  the 
pathway  of  the  pure  and  innocent  Pauline.  She 
went  to  her  mother's  room  with  all  the  calmness 
she  could  assume,  but  neither  of  her  parents 
were  there.  With  mingled  doubts  and  fears  she 
ran  to  the  sitting-room,  and  after  casting  one 
glance  on  the  tear-stained  faces  within,  she  sank 
with  a  groan  upon  a  seat  near  the  door.  Her 
mother,  Maria  and  Miss  Briggs  were  weeping 
violently,  and  her  father,  who  sat  by  the  window, 
had  his  face  buried  in  his  hands.  Guy  hastened 
to  her  side,  and  starting  to  her  feet  she  wildly 
exclaimed : 

"What  is  it,  Guy?     Oh  !  tell  me!" 

Very  tenderly  her  brother  led  her  back  to  the 
sofa,  and  seating  himself  at  her  side,  while  he 
held  both  her  hands  in  his,  he  said : 

"Sister,  a  great  sorrow  is  waiting  for  you;  we 
all  pity  you,  poor  little  girl — but  the  burden  of 
this  grief  you  must  bear  alone.  Can  you  bear  it 
bravely?" 


1 64  THE   WORST   FOE. 

Her  eyes  wandered  from  one  to  another; 
every  particle  of  color  had  left  her  face,  and  yet 
when  she  spoke  her  voice  had  an  alarming  calm- 
ness about  it. 

"I  can  bear  it,"  she  said.  "Anything  is 
better  than  this  suspense.  This  is  of  William. 
Tell  me  all,  Guy — what  has  happened  him?" 
What  did  she  suspect  had  happened  him — what 
could  she  suspect  ?  Certainly  she  did  not  realize 
the  worst.  Drawing  her  toward  him,  in  as  gentle 
a  tone  as  he  could,  her  brother  said : 

"Pauline — sister,  your  noble  William  is 
dead." 

A  piercing  scream  rang  through  the  room, 
she  started  up  as  if  stricken  by  a  death  throe, 
and  sank  unconscious  into  her  brother's  arms. 
It  was  but  a  slight  swoon,  however,  for  she  soon 
recovered  and  lay  pale  and  motionless  on  her 
brother's  shoulder,  but  no  other  sound  escaped 
her  lips  and  her  eyes  were  as  yet  tearless.  After 
a  few  moments  she  spoke  in  a  faint  whisper,  and 
asked  her  brother  to  tell  her  all.  Guy  told  all 
he  knew  of  the  tragedy,  which  was  a  very 
meagre  account,  as  the  assassin  had  escaped  and 
nothing  was  known  of  him  or  his  motive.  She 
listened  with  a  calmness  far  more  terrible  than 
the  most  violent  grief.  After  a  few  moments 
silence,  broken  only  by  the  sobs  of  the  weeping 
women,  she  asked : 

"Have  you  telegraphed  to  Mr.  Johns?" 


THE  WORST  FOE.  1 6$ 

"  I  have,"  he  answered. 

"  That  is  well.  We  intended  going  there  on 
our  bridal  tour,  but  we  will  go  there  any  way. 
It  will  be  quite  different  from  what  we  intended, 
but  Willie  shall  be  laid  to  rest  by  his  mother's 
side.  Will  you  go  with  us  ?  " 

' '  Yes,  Pauline,  I  will  be  with  you,  and  will 
attend  to  all.  But  this  shock  I  see  is  too  much 
for  you  ;  you  must  let  me  lead  you  back  to  your 
chamber,  where  you  can  rest  in  quiet." 

She  consented  to  be  taken  back  to  her  room, 
but  the  feelings  and  emotions  which  seemed  at 
that  dark  hour  to  crush  her  young  life  are 
beyond  description.  In  her  room  she  gazed 
about  in  stony  silence.  Oh,  if  she  was  only 
now  as  when  she  left  that  apartment  to  go 
below.  Could  it  all  be  true  ?  Might  it  not 
possibly  be  some  horrid  dream  ?  No !  no !  it 
was  a  sad,  a  terrible  reality.  She  was  silent, 
and  paid  no  attention  to  the  many  questions 
propounded  to  her.  No  tears,  no  words, — 
nothing  but  a  stony,  silent  grief. 

Her  brother  was  at  her  side,  but  all  his  tender 
words  could  not  move  her  to  tears.  The  day 
passed  in  gloom  and  sorrow.  It  was  the  first 
gloomy  day  the  Denesmores  had  ever  known, 
and  was  in  reality  the  darkest  of  their  lives. 
They  watched  by  the  couch  of  their  loved  one, 
who  seemed  a  breathing  corpse.  At  times  she 
closed  her  eyes,  and  at  others  gave  a  glassy 


1 66  THE  WORST  FOE. 

stare  at  those  around  her.  Guy's  scientific  in- 
vestigation was  of  no  avail.  Three  or  four  of 
the  best  physicians  were  called  in  consultation, 
and  quiet  was  recommended 

Late  in  the  evening  Deena  Hammond  was 
announced  and  shown  up  to  the  room  where 
the  poor,  stricken  creature  lay.  Deena  was 
quite  overcome  with  the  change  wrought  by  a 
few  short  hours.  Pauline  evidently  heard  her 
sobs,  for  she  turned  her  face  toward  her. 

"  Oh,  Pauline !  'tis  hard,  I  know  'tis  hard,  to 
part  with  him ;  but  to  you  is  given  the  precious 
privilege  of  weeping  for  him."  A  tear,  the  first 
she  had  yet  shed,  was  now  seen  trickling  down 
her  cheek,  and  a  moment  later  others  followed, 
chasing  each  other  rapidly  down  her  marble 
face,  while  convulsive  sobs  began  to  heave  her 
breast. 

"My  God!  did  one  ever  witness  such  grief 
before  !  "  said  Guy  aside  to  a  brother  physician, 
who  had  remained  in  charge  of  the  case.  After 
a  few  moments'  weeping  and  sobbing,  Pauline 
spoke,  her  voice  expressing  a  deeper  woe  than 
can  possibly  be  described. 

"  Oh,  Deena!  it's  such  a  blessing  to  weep  for 
him.  He  said  that  we  were  often  tried  in  the 
furnace  of  affliction  and  found  solace  in  trying  to 
relieve  others.  Heaven  grant  that  I  may  find 
strength  to  carry  out  the  blessed  work  he  has 
begun." 


THE    WORST    FOE.  l6/ 

They  wept  together  and  talked  of  the  dear 
departed  until  midnight;  and  then,  by  the  ad- 
ministration of  narcotics,  Pauline  fell  asleep  and 
Deena  stole  quietly  away.  During  the  night 
arrangements  were  made  to  convey  the  body  of 
William  Strasmore  to  its  last  resting  place. 

******* 

All  was  bustle  ana  generous  excitement  at  the 
home  of  William  Strasmore's  foster  parents.  All 
was  joy  at  the  expected  return  of  William  with 
his  new  bride.  The  news  of  the  wedding  had 
spread  all  over  the  neighborhood,  and  the  many 
who  had  known  William  only  to  love  him,  were 
looking  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  time  when 
they  would  see  him  again.  All  his  former  friends 
were  invited,  and  his  coming  marriage  revived 
the  bygone  days  of  his  and  their  childhood. 
William  was  a  favorite  among  the  boys  and 
girls,  and  his  coming  back  home  with  a  young 
and  handsome  bride  was  an  anticipated  pleasure. 

The  pretty  Mrs.  Bloomer,  still  young,  though 
she  had  been  a  wife  nine  years,  and  a  mother 
seven,  was  busily  engaged  with  her  sewing, 
while  her  mind  went  back  to  the  days  when 
she,  a  little  girl,  played  with  William  Strasmore, 
and  blushed  even  yet  at  the  recollection  of  being 
called  his  little  sweetheart.  She  remembered 
how  spunky  John  Bloomer  grew  at  such 
assertions,  and  recalled  many  an  incident  which 
gave  her  pleasure  and  pain.  She  remembered 


1 68  THE   WORST   FOE. 

most  distinctly  the  night  William  Strasmore 
walked  home  with  her  from  spelling-school,  and 
praised  his  friend,  John  Bloomer,  and  told  Be- 
linda she  could  never  possess  the  love  of  a  bet- 
ter, truer  man  than  he.  She  felt  a  disappoint- 
ment at  the  time,  but  after  William  was  fairly 
out  of  the  way,  concluded  that  his  advice  was 
the  best,  and  decided  to  take  it.  She  found 
that  William  had  spoken  truly,  for  a  better, 
truer  man  than  John  Bloomer  never  lived. 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Bloomer's  little  girl 
came  into  the  room  with  a  rush,  leaving  the 
door  open  behind  her,  and  throwing  her  cape  in 
one  corner  of  the  room,  her  bonnet  in  the  other, 
and  dropping  her  dinner  basket  in  the  center, 
with  eyes  sparkling  with  excitement,  began  : 

"Say,  ma !  can't  I  go  with  you  to  Mr.  Johns'  ? 
I'll  wash  all  the  dishes,  peel  the  'taters,  pick  up 
chips,  and  rock  the  cradle  without  cryin'  for 
two  weeks.  Charley  Jones  says  it  '11  be  's  good 
as  a  circus,  'cause  they  're  goin'  to  have  a  long 
table  set,  with  a  live-roasted  stuffed  turkey  an'  a 
pig  in  the  centre  o'  the  table,  and  I've  never 
seen  a  circus,  or  a  live  turkey  stuffed,  neither ; 
and  they  are  goin'  to  have  a  bride's  cake,  and  I 
never  saw  a  bride's  cake.  Say,  ma !  can  I  go, 
please?" 

"Do  be  quiet,  child,  you've  made  me  stick  my 
finger  with  the  needle." 

"  Helloa !  "  called  a  voice  from  the  front  gate. 


THE   WORST    FOE.  169 

"There's  Charley  Jones  now  on  Mr.  Johns' 
horse,"  said  Mrs.  Bloomer,  "  wonder  what  he 
wants  ?  ' '  The  little  girl,  followed  by  her  mother, 
went  to  the  front  gate. 

"There  haint  goin'  to  be  no  infair  at  Mr. 
Johns',  Miss  Bloomer,"  cried  Charley,  his  eyes 
expressive  of  excitement.  "Their  son  Will's 
dead'n  some  one's  goin'  to  bring  him  here  to  bury 
him  by  his  mother.  Mr.  Johns  sent  me  here  to 
see  if  Mr.  Bloomer  'd  go  for  that  preacher  that 
Will  used  to  like." 

"Yes,  yes.  Oh,  Willie!  Willie  dead!"  cried 
Mrs.  Bloomer,  leaning  against  the  gate  for  sup- 
port. 

^c  ^c  %  if:  %  >|c  ^c 

It  was  a  dismal  day  when  Guy  Denesmore,  in 
charge  of  the  remains,  got  off  at  the  little  depot 
nearest  Mr.  Johns.  A  hearse  and  long  procession 
of  wagons  and  carriages  were  awaiting  their 
arrival.  It  was  two  miles  to  the  quiet,  unpreten- 
tious country  church,  at  which  William,  when  a 
very  little  child,  had  first  learned  to  worship  God. 
Wagons,  vehicles  and  horsemen  joined  the  pro- 
cession, until  it  became  a  large  one,  when  they 
reached  the  church. 

The  funeral  text  was,  "Mark  the  perfect  man, 
and  behold  the  upright,  for  the  end  of  that  man. 
is  peace."  Psa.  37:37.     The  minister  was  one  of 
those    unassuming   yet   impressive  men,  whose 
sermons  dwell  long  in  the  hearts  of  his  hearers. 


i/O  THE  WORST  FOE. 

There  was  no  effort  at  either  rhetorical  or  oratori- 
cal display.  After  alluding  to  the  noble  character 
of  the  deceased,  he  sketched  in  a  rapid  manner  his 
early  childhood,  vicissitudes  and  trials,  and  then 
mentioned  his  strong  religious  nature  and  his 
consecration  to  the  cause  of  temperance.  No 
one  ever  associated  with  William  Strasmore  with- 
out feeling  better  for  having  done  so.  His  life 
bears  testimony  to  the  fulfillment  of  the  promise 
' '  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  right- 
eousness ;  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you."  The  good  man's  house  was  always  kept 
in  order,  so  that  when  at  an  unexpected  hour,  in 
the  vigor  of  life  and  dawn  of  manhood  and  use- 
fulness, death  claimed  him  without  a  moment's 
warning,  it  was  well  with  his  soul.  He  alluded 
to  the  dark  crime  which  had  deprived  this  world 
and  these  friends  of  the  usefulness  of  William 
Strasmore.  It  was  yet  a  mystery,  and  surmise 
at  most  could  say  it  was  some  revengeful  fanatic, 
driven  crazy  by  intoxication,  who  in  a  fit  of 
frenzy  had  destroyed  the  very  man  who  would 
save  him.  William  Strasmore  only  added  one 
more  to  the  many  martyrs  who  had  given  up 
their  lives  for  humanity.  This  death  would  react 
against  the  rumseller  more  than  a  thousand  lec- 
turers in  the  field.  Most  feelingly  did  he  allude 
to  the  young,  beautiful  and  accomplished  be- 
trothed of  the  deceased.  "Next  day  he  was  to 
have  wed  one  in  every  way  worthy  to  be  his 


THE  WORST  FOE.  17! 

wife  ;  but  his  bride  was  death.  She  is  prostrated 
with  grief  and  horror,  and  unable  to  accompany 
the  remains  of  one  whom  she  holds  dearer  than 
her  own  life,  to  the  grave.  While  we  are  all 
bowed  down  with  grief  at  the  loss  of  one  so 
grand  and  noble,  cut  down  in  the  flower  of  h's 
manhood,  we  have  the  comforting  assurance,  that 
beyond  this  land  of  woe  and  disappointment, 
William  Strasmore  has  entered  into  that  land  of 
eternal  peace,  where  night  never  comes.  Oh 
that  the  comforting  word  of  grace  may  find  its 
\vay  to  the  heart  of  his  mourning  bride,  and  may 
she  look  forward  with  bright  hopes  and  anticipa- 
tions to  that  day,  when  she  will  join  him  in  that 
celestial  city  not  made  with  hands,  but  eternal 
in  the  heavens  ;  and  dwell  with  the  Lord  forever 
and  ever. " 

The  funeral  sermon  was  deep  and  impressive 
in  its  simplicity,  and  at  the  conclusion  there  was 
scarcely  a  dry  eye  in  the  audience.  As  Guy 
Denesmore  heard  the  clods  fall  upon  the  coffin 
of  his  friend  who  was  to  have  been  his  brother, 
it  seemed  like  the  tolling  of  his  own  death  bell. 
"Earth  to  earth,  and  dust  to  dust."  Oh,  how 
all  stood  with  hushed  voices  around  that  rapidly 
filling  grave.  What  a  dark  hour  it  must  be  to 
the  skeptic  as  he  hears  that  sound,  and  from  the 
depths  of  his  infidel  reasoning,  says  :  '  'That  is 
all.  There  is  nothing  beyond.  All  is  dark 
despair ;  there  is  no  joy,  not  a  ray  of  hope." 


1/2  THE   WORST   FOE. 

"Will  you  go  now,  doctor?"  asked  a  voice 
at  the  side  of  Dr.  Denesmore.  He  started  from 
that  painful  reverie  into  which  he  had  fallen  and 
gazed  about  him.  The  grave  was  almost  filled, 
and  the  people  had  nearly  all  gone  away.  He 
paused  but  a  moment  to  gaze  upon  the  marble 
slab  which  bore  the  name  of  William's  mother. 
The  story  of  her  sufferings,  trials  and  heroic 
death  was  known  to  him,  and  now  the  sight  of 
that  plain  marble  slab  seemed  to  impress  him 
with  a  strange  awe.  As  he  went  away,  Guy 
sighed : 

"Oh,  William  !  it  is  hard  to  leave  you  here. 
Poor  Pauline !  dark  indeed  must  be  the  world  to 
her." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

ALONE. 

"Away  !  ye  know  that  tears  are  rain, 

That  death  nor  heeds,  nor  hears  distress  ; 

Will  this  unteach  us  to  complain, 

Or  make  one  mourner  weep  the  less  ? 

And  th  ~>u. — who  tells  me  to  forget 

Thy  looks  are  wan,  thine  eyes  are  wet." 

— Byron, 

When  Pauline  awoke  from  the  sleep  in  which 
Deena  had  left  her,  she  was  at  first  unconscious 
of  what  had  happened.  There  was  a  heavy  sor- 
row at  her  heart,  a  deep,  uneasy  dread,  but  just 
what  it  was  she  knew  not.  She  rose  to  a  sitting 
posture,  and  then  as  the  awful  reality  of  what 
had  happened  came  over  her  with  crushing  weight, 
she  threw  herself  back  on  her  pillow,  crying : 
"Oh,  Willie  !  Willie  !  I  am  alone,  all  alone !  " 
For  an  hour  she  lay  convulsed  with  silent  grief, 
then  for  the  first  time  since  she  had  received  that 
terrible  shock,  she  felt  a  strong  desire  to  gaze 
upon  the  beloved  form,  and  hold  the  hand  in 
hers.  This  desire  gained  in  strength  until  she 
rose  from  her  bed,  and  in  wrapper  and  slippers 
with  only  alight  shawl  thrown  over  her  shoulders, 

173 


174  THE   WORST   FOE. 

she  left  the  room  and  glided  noiselessly  down  the 
stairway.  She  knew  the  room  in  which  he  lay. 
Softly  opening  the  door  she  entered  as  if  he 
slept  and  she  feared  to  wake  him.  The  gas  was 
turned  down  low,  but  she  saw  the  casket  at  the 
farther  side  of  the  room,  and,  as  she  wished  it 
might  be,  the  lid  was  off. 

"Oh,  Willie!  darling  Willie,  I  have  come  at 
last,"  she  said,  and  kneeling  by  his  side  she 
kissed  his  marble-like  brow,  while  her  tears  fell 
fast  upon  that  white,  dead  face,  and  she  began 
talking  as  if  she  were  in  his  presence : 

"Oh,  Willie!  dear  Willie,  'tis  hard  to  give  you 
up,  but  I  will  try  to  bear  this  burden  as  bravely 
as  you  said  I  must.  It  is  a  duty  we  owe  to 
others  to  bear  our  sorrows  in  silence,  and  to  try  to 
relieve  the  sufferings  of  others.  Even  while  I 
feel  so  lonely  and  desolate,  I  will  try  for  the  sake 
of  others  who  may  surfer,  to  be  cheerful.  I  will 
in  all  things  do  as  you  would  wish."  Raising 
from  her  knees,  she  kissed  the  face  which  she 
had  uncovered  when  she  reached  his  side. 

"Dear,  darling  Willie,  if  I  could  know  that 
you  were  near  me  in  the  years  which  are  to  come. 
You  said  that  sometimes  you  felt  the  presence  of 
your  dead  mother.  Oh  !  can  you  not  in  spirit  be 
with  me  all  the  time  ?  " 

The  watchers  at  this  moment  entered  again, 
and  found  her  bending  over  him,  the  great  grief 
of  her  heart  bursting  forth  in  convulsive  sobs. 


THE    WORST    FOE.  1/5 

Their   hearts  were  touched,  for  never  had  they 
beheld  a  more  touching  scene. 

Three  weeks  have  passed  since  William  Stras- 
more  was  buried.  The  excitement  which  his 
murder  had  created,  had  somewhat  abated.  His 
name  is  seldom  mentioned  in  the  Denesmore 
home.  With  Pauline  the  subject  is  too  sacred, 
while  others  fear  to  wound  her  feelings  by  allud- 
ing to  it.  He  is  deeply  mourned  by  all.  Paul- 
ine in  spirit  is  ever  kneeling  at  the  far  away  grave, 
and  each  moment  of  her  waking  hours  is  spent 
in  thought  of  the  dear  departed.  Who  was  his 
assassin,  and  what  the  cause  of  his  assassination  ? 

Mr.  Denesmore  in  his  study  was  turning  the 
question  over  in  his  mind,  what  could  he  do  to 
bring  back  the  bloom  to  his  daughter's  cheek  ? 
Day  by  day  the  fond  father  had  seen  his  child 
grow  weaker  and  paler.  Would  not  travel  and 
change  of  scenery  effect  the  cure  he  desired  ? 
While  he  was  still  thinking,  Pauline  entered  his 
study,  and  seating  herself  on  a  low  stool  at  his 
feet,  placed  her  arm  on  his  knees,  and  rested  her 
cheek  upon  it.  Both  were  silent,  but  a  sigh 
escaping  from  her  burdened  heart,  told  how  deep- 
ly she  felt  the  woe  that  had  fallen  upon  her. 

"Father,  it  is  wrong  I  know,  for  me  to  keep 
you  all  miserable.  I  have  so  often  resolved  to 
be  brave  and  give  this  up,  but  we  know  not  how 
weak  we  are  until  we  are  placed  in  the  crucible. 


176  THE   WORST   FOE. 

A  shadow  seems  to  have  fallen  on  my  once  happy 
life,  and  crushed  out  all  joy  forever." 

"My  dear  child,"  said  her  father,  drawing  her 
upon  his  knee  as  he  had  done  when  she  was  a 
little  girl,  and  placing  her  head  against  his 
shoulder;  "we  must  do  something  for  you. 
How  would  you  like  to  travel  ?  Your  mother 
and  I  think  it  would  be  the  very  thing.  You 
need  a  change  of  scene." 

' '  You  are  very  kind,  papa,  but  I  must  not 
think  of  travel  now.  I  used  to  enjoy  it,  but  there 
is  a  change  of  scene  nearer  home,  which  will  not 
only  benefit  me,  but  others  as  well.  Guy  has 
just  told  me  that  Mrs.  Hammond  is  very  ill.  I  told 
him  to  come  after  me  when  he  went  there  this 
afternoon,  and  I  would  go  with  him.  That  will 
be  a  change,  father.  I  leave  my  own  quiet  home 
and  enter  one  made  desolate  by  intemperance. 
Father,  I  believe  that  unfortunate  family  have 
greater  God-given  faculties  than  we.  While  we 
have  always  been  happy,  they  have  only  realized 
happiness  as  a  dream.  They  have  long  been  a 
prey  to  humanity's  worst  foe,  of  which  we  know 
nothing  save  as  the  result  seen  in  others." 

' '  Will  it  not  make  you  more  despondent  to  go 
there  ?  " 

"No,  no  father;  I  will  gain  strength  by  their 
misfortunes.  I  never  had  any  patience  with  a 
drunkard  until  I  became  interested  in  Modenia 
and  George  Hammond;  then  I  put  myself  in  her 


THE   WORST    FOE.  1 77 

place,  and  thought  were  it  my  father  and  brother, 
would  not  I  be  patient.  In  bringing  them  home 
to  myself,  I  lost  my  contempt  for  the  drunkard. 
Every  drunkard  is  a  father,  son,  brother  or  hus- 
band, and  there  is  some  good  in  his  nature.  In 
fact,  father,  many  of  the  noblest  and  best  of  our 
land  fall  victims  to  The  Worst  Foe.  The  destroyer 
is  placed  before  us,  not  as  a  destroyer,  nor  does 
the  victim  realize  what  a  fearful  step  he  is  taking 
when  he  drinks  his  first  glass.  Why  can  not  the 
voter  be  more  thoughtful  and  silentlv  destroy 
this  evil?" 

"I  don't  want  you  to  think  on  this  subject, 
my  dear.  You  might  spend  all  your  life  in  try- 
ing to  put  down  intemperance  and  never  effect  any 
change.  Your  eloquence  might  as  well  be  spent 
on  the  desert,  for  all  the  good  you  will  ever  ac- 
complish. Don't  excite  yourself  about  the 
drunkard  or  the  voter,  lest  you  take  burdens 
upon  your  shoulders  which  you  will  never  be 
able  to  throw  off.  Do  as  your  mother  and  I  have 
done — drop  a  seed  when  and  where  you  can, 
which  will  bring  forth  good  fruit,  but  do  not  try 
to  change  the  destiny  of  nations." 

"I  have  heard  you  say,  father,  thatyou  wanted 
your  children  to  be  better  than  their  parents. 
Here  may  be  a  chance  for  progression.  You 
have  only  sowed  in  fertile  ground  ;  we  are  told 
to  '  sow  by  all  waters. '  You  want  the  color  to 
return  to  my  cheek,  and  you  think  of  me  travel- 
as) 


178  THE   WORST   FOE. 

ing  for  change  of  scene;  but  let  me  seek  that 
change  at  home,  where  earnest  hearts  and  willing 
hands  are  needed." 

"Have  it  as  you  will,  my  dear;  but  I  shall  feel 
better  when  the  color  has  returned  to  your  cheek,  ( 
and  I  can  see  a  smile  once  more  on  your  face." 

When  alone  in  her  room,  Pauline  opened  her 
Bible.  Her  eyes  first  rested  on  the  following 
passage : 

"Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  thou 
art  with  me  ;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort 
me."  She  rose  to  her  feet  and  going  to  the 
window  repeated  to  herself,  "I  will  fear  no  evil. 
I  shall  enter  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
when  I  go  to  Mrs.  Hammond's — the  very  worst 
of  the  valleys  of  death;  for  of  all,  the  one  shad- 
owed by  the  vice  of  strong  drink  is  the  dark- 
est ;  yet  my  work  and  mission  shall  be  there  and 
I  will  fear  no  evil." 

Dear  readers,  how  many  of  you  are  ready  like 
Pauline  Denesmore,  to  consecrate  yourselves  to 
the  cause  of  temperance,  and  enter  with  her 
into  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  caused  by 
the  blighting  breath  of  King  Alcohol.  Have 
you,like  Pauline,  so  far,  only  lived  in  the  sunshine 
of  prosperity  ?  Then,  like  her,  put  yourself  in 
Modenia's  place,  remembering  the  evil  monster 
may  enter  your  home  and  snatch  loved  ones 
away.  Don't  be  content  as  was  Mr.  Denesmore, 
with  sowing  only  in  fertile  ground. 


THE    WORST    FOE. 

Pauline  found  Mrs.  Hammond  very  feeble. 
Guy  said  that  death  was  liable  at  any  moment  to 
claim  its  victim.  Pauline  told  Guy  she  would  stay 
with  the  stricken  family  until  late  in  the  evening, 
when  they  could  send  the  carriage  for  her.  Lay- 
ing aside  her  costly  wraps,  she  set  about  her 
work  to  lessen  as  far  as  possible  the  misery  of 
the  poor  sufferer.  Nor  were  her  efforts  in  vain. 
As  is  always  the  case,  heart  responded  to  heart 
in  efforts  put  forth  with  the  purest  and  truest 
motives  in  relieving  the  pain  of  others.  She 
soon  quieted  Lillie  to  sleep,  and  rendered  valua- 
ble aid  to  toil-  and  care-worn  Modenia.  Taking 
her  seat  by  the  side  of  the  sick  woman,  she  soothed 
her  sufferings  the  best  she  could.  When  the 
dying  woman  spoke  of  her  absent  son,  Pauline 
talked  hopefully  of  him. 

"I  very  much  fear  he  has  gone  down,  down 
again,"  said  the  invalid  feebly.  "He  has  been 
silent  so  long." 

"Put  your  trust  in  God,  Mrs.  Hammond,  and 
remember  that  'not  a  sparrow  shall  fall  to  the 
ground  without  your  Father,'"  said  Pauline 
cheerfully.  "George  has  good  in  his  nature — 
more  good  than  evil,  we  all  know — you  pray  for 
him  always,  and  we  none  of  us  cease  to  pray  for 
him.  Will  not  our  prayers  be  answered." 

"Oh,  child !"  sighed  the  heart-broken  woman, 
"  if  it  were  any  other  temptation  than  intemper- 
ance, I  might  have  some  hope.  But,  oh,  I 


ISO  THE   WORST   FOE. 

know  the  powers  of  such  a  temptation  where 
the  tempter  stands  smiling  and  inviting  at  every 
corner.  'The  spirit  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is 
weak.' ' 

"And  I  know  if  we  aid  ourselves,  God  will 
aid  us,"  said  Pauline  hopefully.  "This  curse 
will  not  always  be  in  our  land.  You  may  not 
live  to  see  it;  I  may  not;  but  the  generations 
which  follow  will  reap  a  rich  harvest  of  love  and 
peace  from  what  we  have  sown  in  tears.  Do  you 
find  no  comfort  in  the  thought?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  there  is  comfort  in  thinking  of  the 
future.  But  my  boy,  my  poor,  deluded  child ! 
will  he  know  that  he  was  never  from  his  mother's 
mind  from  the  time  she  held  him  in  her  arms,  a 
sweet,  prattling  babe.  I  loved  him  then,  but  I 
love  him  more  since  his  fall,  for  he  needs 
my  love.  I  guarded  him,  watched  him  and 
prayed  for  him.  When  he  grcw.to  manhood, 
and  was  so  pure  and  unspotted  right  in  the  midst 
of  temptations,  how  proud  I  \vas  of  him.  I 
thought,  though  all  the  world  should  fall,  my 
George  is  safe." 

''But  we  have  learned,  Mrs.  Hammond,  that 
none  are  safe,  Eternal  vigilance  alone  is  the 
price  of  safety.  Let  us  talk  no  more,  for  you 
are  weak.  If  ever  I  hear  of  George  Hammond, 
I  shall  use  all  my  feeble  efforts  in  his  behalf, 
and  if  he  has  fallen,  he  shall  be  saved,  be  he  ever 
so  low  in  the  stagnant  pool  of  sin  and  degrada- 
tion." 


THE   WORST   FOE.  1 8 1 

When  Pauline  rose  to  go,  Mrs.  Hammond  in- 
sisted on  her  coming  again  on  the  morrow.  '  'We 
need  you  so  much,"  the  dying  woman  feebly 
said.  "You  bring  such  joy,  such  cheerfulness 
and  peace." 

She  promised,  and  kissing  the  pale,  shrunken 
features,  was  gone.  Deena  Hammond  stood 
gating  after  her,  then  turning  to  her  mother, 
said : 

"Poor  Pauline  !  she  has  suffered  keenly  as 
Well  as  ourselves,  but  her  sorrow  has  only  given 
a  sweeter,  mellower  influence  to  her  love,  which 
was  always  abundant." 

Pauline  had  kept  up  well  while  in  the  presence 
of  others,  but  when  in  her  carriage  the  old  grief 
that  had  for  three  weeks  held  her  in  deepest  des- 
pair seized  upon  her,  and  she  sobbed  : 

"Oh,  Willie,  Willie!  how  I  miss  you  !  You 
were  with  me  the  last  time,  to  lead  in  the  utter- 
ance of  words  of  cheer  and  hope.  But  now  I 
am  alone  !  Oh,  God !  can  I  endure  this  loneliness? 
I  must  weep  alone.  The  world  has  its  share  of 
sorrow  and  cannot  take  a  part  of  my  burden.  I 
must  carry  comfort  to  the  afflicted,  aid  to  the 
needy  and  improve  each  golden  hour.  The  time 
will  soon  come  when  I  can  join  you  in  that  beau- 
tiful world  where  night  never  comes." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    HAMMONDS. 

"  'Twas  then,  the  studious  head,  or  generous  mind, 

Follower  of  God,  or  friend  of  human  kind, 

Poet  or  Patriot,  rose  but  to  restore 

The  faith  and  moral,  nature  gave  before  : 

The  less  or  greater,  set  so  justly  true, 

That  touching  one,  must  strike  the  other,  too." 

— Pope, 

NEVER  haa  Pauline's  time  oeen  more  profita- 
bly spent  than  during  the  week  following  the 
events  recorded  in  our  last  chapter.  Profitably 
to  herself,  for  seeing  the  misery  and  suffering  of 
others,  she  was  called  away  from  the  great  sor- 
row which  burdened  her  own  heart ;  and  certain- 
ly profitable  to  others,  for  many  weary  souls 
will  bless  her  to  their  dying  day.  And  when 
from  the  Just  Rewarder  she  shall  hear  the  glad 
words,  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant, 
enter thou  into  my  joy" —  "  Inasmuch  as  ye 
have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these,  ye 
have  done  it  unto  me,"  that  peace  which passeth 
understanding  will  enter  her  soul  to  endure  for- 
ever. Pauline  administered  to  the  wants  of  many 
who  were  sick,  and  in  poverty  and  distress,  but 

182 


THE  WORST  FOE.  183 

most  01  her  time  was  spent  at  Mrs.  Hammond's 
bedside.  Her  parents  feared  she  was  overtaxing 
herself,  but  Guy  said  : 

"Let  her  alone;  it  will  do  her  good,"  and 
they  quietly  awaited  the  outcome  of  her  labors. 

"Can  nothing  be  done  to  find  George  ?"  Mrs. 
Hammond  asked  Dr.  Denesmore  and  his  sister, 
who  were  at  her  bedside. 

"I  know  of  nothing  more  that  can  be  done, 
Mrs.  Hammond,"  said  Dr.  Denesmore  sadly. 
"He  started  to  Omaha,  and  I  have  written  to  a 
friend  there  concerning  him.  He  has  visited  the 
hospitals,  but  none  of  them  show  the  registration 
of  George  Hammond.  He  was  registered  at  a 
hotel,  but  only  for  one  day.  That  is  as  far  as 
we  have  been  able  to  learn  anything  of  him." 

The  poor  woman  lay  for  a  few  moments  breath- 
ing with  difficulty.  Deep  down  in  her  throat 
could  already  be  heard  the  warning  rattle.  At 
last  she  raised  her  eyes  which  were  rapidly  grow- 
ing glassy,  and  in  a  whisper  said  : 

"Doctor,  can  I  last  long?  " 

"No,  Mrs.  Hammond.  Do  not  be  frightened, 
for  you  must  know  you  are  soon  to  die, "  said  the 
doctor. 

She  merely  nodded  her  head  and  then  while  a 
moisture  gathered  in  her  eyes,  faintly  said  : 

"My  poor  children — poor  Deena  and  Lillie. " 

"Do  not  worry  about  them,  Mrs.  Hammond, 
for  they  will  be  taken  care  of,"  said  the  doctor. 


1 84  THE   WORST    FOE. 

"You  must  not  try  to  talk  now,  for  you  are  too 
weak. "  Then  whispering  to  his  sister  to  remain 
with  the  patient  until  he  could  send  a  nurse,  the 
doctor  stole  from  the  apartment.  The  eyes  of 
the  dying  woman  closed,  and  her  breathing  be- 
came every  moment  more  and  more  difficult. 
Pauline  was  watching  the  rapid  change  coming 
over  her  countenance,  when  she  heard  the  un- 
steady step  of  the  intoxicated  husband  and  father. 
Never  had  she  had  such  a  trial  before.  In  his 
maudlin,  drunken  manner,  the  inebriate  told  his 
dying  wife  to  get  up  ;  that  she  was  better,  and 
had  not  Pauline  interceded,  and  called  Deena  to 
her  aid,  he  would  have  dragged  her  to  the  floor. 
But  they  got  him  to  bed  in  an  adjoining  room, 
where  he  soon  fell  asleep.  The  angel  of  death  had 
spread  his  dark  wings  and  was  even  at  that  mo- 
ment hovering  over  the  household.  The  drunk- 
ard did  not  realize  that  she  whom  he  had  pronv 
ised  to  protect,  love  and  cherish,  in  sickness  and 
health,  was  at  death's  door,  and  because  of  his 
cruelty,  really  welcomed  the  dark  messenger. 
Will  he  ever  awake  from  that  drunken  slumber 
to  remorse  and  agony?  He  was  once  a  kind 
husband  and  an  indulgent  father,  but  alcohol  had 
transformed  him  to  a  demon. 

His  was  the  same  old,  old  story,  so  often  told 
that  it  has  long  since  lost  its  interest.  He  took 
the  social  glass,  and  when  his  wife  remonstrated, 
remembered  that  it  was  not  becoming  in  man  to 


THE  WORST  FOE.  185 

yield  to  woman.  The  devil  kept  whispering  in 
his  ear  to  be  a  man  and  not  become  a  henpecked 
husband.  He  drank  then  more  to  annoy  the 
woman  he  professed  to  love  than  for  any  other 
purpose.  He  would  teach  her  not  to  interfere 
with  his  liberty,  and  while  ruining  himself,  and 
destroying  her  happiness,he  thought  himself  the 
most  injured  man  in  the  world.  She  pined  away; 
but  the  demon  ever  attributed  it  to  her  obstinacy, 
and  he  grew  to  almost  hate  the  woman  whom  he 
had  loved  dearer  than  life.  His  tempter  called 
him  wise,  and  he  smiled  at  the  flattery.  From 
bad  to  worse  he  continued  his  downward  course, 
until  he  was  the  bloated  sot  we  find  him.  His 
children  were  ashamed  to  acknowledge  that  he 
was  their  father.  Many  a  time  had  they  blushed 
and  hung  their  little  heads  when  they  heard  his 
drunken  folly  recounted.  When  they  grew  to 
years  of  maturity  they  would  have  hated  the 
author  of  their  being,had  not  their  patient  mother 
said : 

'  'Love  your  father  for  what  he  was,  and  pity 
him  for  what  he  is.  The  law  places  the  tempta- 
tion before  him  and  by  doing  so  says,  '  Drink,  it 
is  honorable,  we  have  made  it  legal. ' ' 

Those  hours  of  watching  seemed  long  to  Paul- 
ine, for  her  brother  failed  to  get  a  nurse,  and  she 
was  compelled  to  remain  alone  with  the  dying 
woman.  Mark  Day,  who  had  heard  that  Mrs. 
Hammond  was  very  ill,  came  to  this  house  of 


1 86  THE   WORST   FOE. 

misery.     He  softly  entered  the  room,  and  com- 
ing to  Pauline's  side,  said  in  a  whisper : 

"Is  she  very  sick  ?  " 

"Yes,  very." 

Mrs.  Hammond's  senses,  quickened  perhaps 
by  the  coming  change,  were  active.  She  opened 
her  eyes,  and  in  a  feeble  voice  asked  : 

"Is  it  George  ?" 

"No,  Mrs.  Hammond,  it  is  Mark  Day,"  said 
Pauline  so  sweetly  and  gently,  that  her  voice 
seemed  to  soothe  the  dying  woman. 

"I  thought  it  was  George  come  back."  Then 
she  again  closed  her  eyes  and  the  death  rattle  in 
her  throat  increased.  Mark  sighed,  and  left  the 
room.  Deena  sat  weeping  softly  near  her  dying 
mother,  while  little  Lillie,  not  realizing  the  great 
loss  she  was  soon  to  sustain,  was  asleep.  The 
drunken  snore  of  the  father  sounded  cruel  and 
heartless  to  the  lonely  watchers.  When  he 
awakes  will  he  at  last  come  to  realize  what  has 
happened? 

When  all  was  over,  the  inebriate,  as  if  disturbed 
by  some  supernatural  element  or  the  loud  sobbing 
of  the  two  girls,  awoke  and  came  out  into  the 
room.  One  glance  at  the  white,  still  form  on 
the  bed,  and  the  young  lady  dressed  in  black, 
who  was  closing  the  once  bright  eyes  he  had 
loved  so  well,  told  him  all  was  over. 

"What  is  it  Deena  ?  "  he  asked,  while  a  shud 
der  passed  through  his  frame. 


THE  WORST  FOE.  l8/ 

"Oh,  father!  she  suffers  no  longer." 

'  'No,  no  !  young  woman,  what  has  happened?" 
asked  the  almost  distracted  man,  now  wild  with 
remorse. 

"Mr.  Hammond,"  said  Pauline  as  gently  as  if 
she  were  talking  to  her  own  father,  "your  wife 
has  paid  the  gnsat  debt  of  nature.  She  has  laid 
down  her  burden  of  life  and  entered  into  that 
eternal  rest  which  kin  store  for  the  good.  She  is 
dead." 

He  staggered,  fov  £ie  had  received  a  blow  that 
would  last  through  H&,  and  with  one  piercing 
cry,  as  though  it  wei«  the  pent-up  agony  of 
year?,  fell  insensible  upon  the  floor. 

After  her  mother  was  laid  to  rest,  and  her 
father  was  sufficiently  recovered  from  the  delirium 
tremens  into  which  he  was  plunged,  on  the  an- 
nouncement of  his  wife's  death,  Modenia's  whole 
energies  were  bent  on  his  redemption.  She 
scarcely  allowed  him  from  her  sight.  She  ac- 
£ompanied  him  wherever  he  went,  and  stood  by 
his  side  while  he  was  combating  temptation. 
He  knew  he  would  yield  were  it  not  for  his 
daughter,  for  long  years  of  dissipation  had  weak- 
ened Joseph  Hammond,  both  physically  and 
mentally. 

Deena  knew  that  she  could  not  always  be  at  her 
father's  side.  There  must  at  some  time  be  a  re- 
laxing of  vigilance,  and  then  the  father  would 


1 88  THE   WORST   FOE. 

fall.  The  Worst  Foe  lurked  always  near,  and 
was  ever  watchful ;  and  the  moment  an  opportu 
nity  afforded  itself,  would  seize  upon  him  and 
drag  him  to  destruction.  George's  plan  of  going 
west,  where  in  some  rural  district  they  might  find 
a  place  free  from  temptation,  came  forcibly  upon 
her.  Might  they  not  do  so  yet  ?  Her  father's 
energies  had  been  so  weakened  by  his  long  life 
of  dissipation,  that  he  would  be  an  invalid  all 
the  remainder  of  his  life,  but  she  was  strong  and 
young,  and  possessed  sufficient  education  to 
teach  a  primary  or  advanced  school.  She  could 
also  take  a  music  class,  providing  no  school  could 
be  obtained.  Kansas,  the  young  and  growing 
state,  had  already  made  a  record  on  the  side  of 
temperance,  and  she  turned  her  attention  in  that 
direction. 

She  mentioned  her  plan  to  Dr.  Denesmore, 
and  he  promised  to  see  what  he  could  do  for 
her.  He  remembered  that  he  had  a  college 
friend  named  Arthur  Templeton,  who  lived  in 
some  small  town  in  Kansas.  He  knew  Arthur 
was  a  good,  whole-souled  fellow,  capable  of  any 
good  act  of  friendship,  and  he  wrote  him  a  letter 
stating  Miss  Deena  Hammond's  case,  and  asking 
his  assistance  for  herself  and  family. 

The  answer  came  promptly,  and  was  favorable. 
There  were  no  saloons  in  the  village  where  he 
lived,  and  the  sentiment  of  the  entire  city  was 
for  prohibition.  It  would  be  some  months  be- 


THE   WORST  FOX,  189 

fore  there  would  be  a  vacancy  in  the  village 
schools,  but  Mr.  Templeton  would  secure  a 
school  for  Miss  Hammond  in  the  country.  As 
Guy  folded  the  letter  he  said  : 

'  'It  is  the  very  thing  for  the  Hammonds  to  do. 
Let  me  see  :  Modenia  is  good  looking,  and  Ar- 
thur a  tender-hearted  old  bachelor !  well,  no  one 
knows  what  may  grow  out  of  all  this  yet." 

Accompanied  by  Pauline,  to  whom  the  joy  of 
bearing  good  news  helped  to  lighten  her  own 
burden,  he  went  that  evening  to  the  home  of  the 
Hammonds.  Deena  was  so  delighted  that  color 
actually  came  to  her  pale  cheek  again. 

"A  new  and  better  life  is  before  us,"  she  said. 
When  they  had  disposed  of  their  small  property 
aind  scant  effects,  Pauline,  finding  that  Deena's 
means  were  still  limited,  placed  a  few  bills  in  her 
hand,  saying: 

"Take  this,  Deena,  it  is  only  loaned,  and  the 
interest  asked  is  that  you  do  not  pay  it  until  you 
can  spare  it  without  injury  to  yourself." 

Modenia  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  part  from 
her  old  home.  Accompanied  by  her  imbecile 
father  and  little  sister,  she  set  out  for  her  new 
home  in  the  great  West.  As  she  was  whirled  onj 
for  hours  and  days  by  the  speeding  train,  her 
thoughts  would  revert  to  her  old  home  at  Staun- 
ton. 

"I  must  not  think  of  Staunton,"  she  said  to 
herself,  "my  thoughts  must  be  beyond." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE   FIRST    GLASS. 

Accuse  not  nature,  she  hath  done  her  part; 
Do  thou  but  thine,  and  be  not  diffident 
Of  wisdom  ;  she  deserts  thee  not,  if  thou 
Dismiss  not  her,  when  most  thou  needst  her  sigh. 

— Milton. 

O^WIFTLY  the  days  speed  into  weeks  and  the 
fJ  weeks  into  months.  Dr.  Denesmore  and  his 
wife  spent  the  first  year  of  their  married  life  with 
Mr.  Day.  Guy  had  intended  to  purchase  an  ele- 
gant home  of  his  own,  but  it  did  not  suit  Maria, 
who  detested  anything  like  the  labor  of  house- 
keeping, and  she  prevailed  on  him  to  live  for  a 
few  months  with  her  father.  Maria  had  always 
had  her  way,  and  she  bid  fair  to  rule  her  husband 
in  this. 

The  summer  passed,  and  autumn  followed, 
then  came  winter  with  icy  fetters  and  coats  of 
snow.  It  was  New  Year's  day,  and  Pauline  was 
sitting  in  the  parlor,  when  Mark  Day  suddenly 
entered  in  his  usual  noisy,  boisterous,  excited 
manner  and  said : 

"Miss  Pauline,  I've  got  the  dapple  grays  and 
iny  new  cutter  at  the  gate.     You  just  ought  to 

190 


THE  WORST  FOE.  igl 

see  them.  I  know  you'll  like  them  better  'n 
ever  if  you'll  come  with  me  for  a  drive.  There 
is  no  need  in  you  staying  in  here  all  day,  for  its 
just  splendid  sleighing.  Will  you  go  with  me  ?  " 

Pauline's  first  impulse  was  to  decline,  but  on 
reflection  she  decided  to  go,  more  for  Mark's 
sake  than  her  own.  Then,  might  not  the  bracing 
air  have  a  salutary  effect  upon  her  ? 

'  'Yes,  Mark,  I  will  go  with  you  ;  but  where  is 
Guy  ?  It  is  the  first  time  since  I  can  remember, 
that  he  was  not  first  to  give  me  a  New  Year's 
greeting.  But  it  is  now  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon and  he  has  not  been  here  yet." 

"He  is  at  home.  Maria  and  he  receive  their 
friends  to-day." 

"I  will  just  tell  mother  I  am  going,  get  my 
wraps,  and  we  will  go." 

The  boy  waited  in  the  hall,  whistling  a  merry 
tune  until  his  Sunday  School  teacher  appeared, 
and  then  he  conducted  her  to  his  sleigh.  Mark 
was  an  experienced  horseman,  and  boy  as  he 
was,  could  manage  a  pair  of  fiery  animals  with 
almost  a  man's  skill.  What  is  more  animating 
to  the  despondent,  than  riding  in  the  pure,  open 
air,  while  the  hoofs  of  the  free,  yet  gentle  ani- 
mals play  an  accompaniment  to  the  chime  of  the 
bells,  and  the  eye  beholds  the  beauties  of  nature. 
When  winter  has  thrown  a  mantle  of  snow  over 
all,  the  body  feels  the  invigoration  of  the  pure, 
health-laden  atmosphere,  and  sad  forebodings 


192  THE  WORST  FOE. 

and  sorrowful  memories  are  driven  from  the 
mind.  This,  like  all  fleeting  pleasure  which  for 
many  make  the  probation  on  earth  bearable,  can 
only  be  enjoyed  for  a  short  space  of  time,  then 
we  are  called  back  to  the  realities  of  life.  Paul- 
ine entered  as  much  into  the  enjoyment  of  the 
hour,  as  the  boy  at  her  side. 

"Let's  go  and  call  on  your  brother  and  Maria, 
Miss  Denesmore,"  said  Mark  when  they  had 
driven  considerable  distance  out  into  the  country. 
"We  can  call  around  there  for  a  moment." 

Pauline  agreed  with  his  proposal,  and  Mark 
turned  his  horses  toward  home.  As  Pauline 
tripped  up  the  broad  stone  steps  which  led  to  the 
house,  something  of  the  old  expression  of  health 
and  happiness  came  over  her  face,  and  shone 
from  her  bright,  sparkling  eyes.  Mark  took  her 
to  the  rear  parlor,  giving  as  his  excuse  for  doing 
so,  that  Guy  and  Maria  had  company  in  the 
front  parlor,  and  perhaps  she  would  not  want  to 
go  in  there. 

"No,  Mark,"  she  answered,  "I  will  just  wait 
here  until  brother  is  at  a  moment's  leisure,  and 
then  you  can  call  him  in.  I  do  not  wish  to  be 
with  company,  but  will  greet  him  and  Maria  here, 
and  go  home." 

Mark  went  into  the  front  parlor  where  was 
assembled  the  gay  callers.  There  was  a  room 
between  the  front  and  rear  parlor — a  large  draw- 
ing-room, and  the  door  being  partially  drawn 


THE    FIRST    OLASS. 

With  her  own  small,  white  hand  she  filled  a  glass  with  wine,  and 
holding  it  up,  said;    "Come,  Guy,  drink  this."    See  page  193. 


THE    WORST    FOE.  193 

back,  Pauline  saw  a  long  table  in  the  centre  of 
the  room,  on  which  were  bottles  and  decanters, 
glasses,  cakes  and  other  refreshments.  She  had 
not  been  waiting  many  minutes,  when  she  saw 
Maria  enter  this  room  leaning  on  Guy's  arm, 
followed  by  several  ladies  and  gentlemen.  They 
came  to  the  table  on  which  were  such  refresh- 
ments as  might  be  expected  at  the  Days'. 

'  'Now,  Doctor,  let  us  drink  the  health  of  these 
ladies,"  said  one  of  the  gentlemen  callers. 

Dr.  Denesmore  smiled,  but  made  no  answer. 

'  'The  doctor  has  never  drank  a  glass  of  wine 
with  me  yet,"  said  Mrs.  Denesmore,  as  she  no- 
ticed her  husband's  hesitation.  With  her  own 
small  white  hand,  she  filled  a  glass  with  wine, 
and  holding  it  up,  said :  ' '  Come,  Guy,  drink  this. 
You  do  not  know  how  pleasant  it  is  to  the 
taste.  Much  better  than  some  of  the  nostrums 
you  administer  to  your  patients." 

What  man  in  the  presence  of  gay  friends 
could  resist  such  a  temptation  offered  by  the  hand 
of  one  he  loved  dearer  than  life?  Guy  took  the 
glass  in  an  unsteady  hand,  and  said  something 
to  the  gentlemen,  then  glasses  clinked,  and  to 
her  horror  Pauline  saw  her  brother  take  his  first 
glass.  She  tried  to  speak  to  prevent  him,  but 
she  seemed  powerless.  She  started  up,  but 
strength  failed  her,  and  she  sank  back  in  her  seat 
unable  to  move.  She  bowed  her  head  on  the 
arm  of  the  sofa,  and  there  Mark  found  her.  He 


I C) 4  THE    WORST    FOE. 

had  hoped  she  had  not  seen  Guy,  but  her  attitude 
convinced  him  she  had.  The  boy  was  at  his 
wit's  ends  to  know  what  to  do.  He  scratched 
his  head,  and  wished  he  had  never  brought  her 
there.  At  last  he  said : 

"The  doctor's  got  so  much  company,  Miss 
Denesmore,  that  I  expect  we'd  better  wait  no 
longer. " 

"No,  Mark,  we  will  go,"  said  Pauline,  raising 
her  head.  Boy  as  he  was,  Mark  Day's -percep- 
tive faculties  were  keen,  and  he  could  not  but 
contrast  her  pale  face  and  downcast  eyes,  with 
the  happy  features  he  had  left  there  but  a  few 
moments  before.  Guy's  first  glass  had  been  wit- 
nessed by  his  sister.  Silently  they  passed  from 
the  house  which  they  had  entered,  unobserved. 
Mark  knew  Pauline's  heart  was  almost  breaking, 
and  refrained  from  mentioning  a  subject  which 
was  causing  his  Sunday  School  teacher  so  much 
pain.  They  rode  home  in  silence,  and  at  the  door 
Pauline  said : 

"Mark,  do  not  mention  this  to  father  or  moth- 
er." 

Mark  bowed,  and  as  he  rode  back  home  in  his 
cutter,  he  said : 

'  'Only  his  first  glass,  but  if  he  can  be  persuaded 
to  take  one,  can  he  not  be  persuaded  to  drink 
more  ?  It  made  Pauline  look  like  a  ghost.  I 
wish  we  hadn't  gone  there.  It  seems  that  I  do 
everything  wrong.  I  hope  this  will  be  Guy's 


THE  WORST  FOE.  195 

last  glass,  though  I've  heard  'em  say  every  man 
gets  on  a  spree  once  in  a  lifetime.  Strasmore 
never  would  if  he'd  a  lived  a  hundred  years. 
Some  called  him  a  fanatic,  but  I  wish  two-thirds 
of  the  world  was  of  that  kind  of  fanatics.  •  Guy 
is  a  good  fellow,  but  I  am  afraid  he  is  not  as  strong 
as  Strasmore  was,  and  I  wish  he  hadn't  taken  that 
first  glass." 

Pauline,  determined  to  keep  the  humiliating 
knowledge  from  her  mother,  entered  her  room, 
where  she  found  a  letter  lying  on  her  table  which 
had  been  brought  by  the  postman  during  her 
absence.  It  was  from  Modenia  Hammond,  and 
hoping  that  it  would  have  a  tendency  to  relieve 
her  mind,  she  opened  it  and  read : 

"DEAREST  FRIEND  : — The  labors  of  the  day 
ended,  I  find  my  chief  pleasure  in  writing  to  you.  I 
am  delighted  with  my  free  home  in  the  West,  which 
in  this  particular  locality  is  free  indeed — free  from  the 
curse  of  strong  drink.  Oh,  my  dear  friend,  no  one 
free  from  the  burden  of  that  curse,  can  know  the 
happiness  conveyed  by  those  words.  The  very  at- 
mosphere seems  filled  with  this  freedom.  Dr.  Den- 
esmore's  friend,  Mr.  Templeton,  has  proven  himself 
a  gentleman  and  a  friend,  well  deserving  the  confi- 
dence which  the  doctor  places  in  him.  After  we 
were  established  in  our  comfortable  home,  I  found 
that  all  arrangements  had  been  made  by  Mr.  Tem- 
pleton much  better  than  I  could  have  made  them 
myself.  My  school  progresses  well,  and  if  mother 


196  THE   WORST   FOE. 

and  George  were  only  here,  I  could  almost  be  happy. 

Write  soon  without  fail. 

As  ever  your  friend, 

DEENA." 

Pauline  sat  for  a  long  time  in  a  painful  reverie, 
with  the  letter  lying  in  her  lap.  She  at  last  rose 
with  a  sigh,  and  lighted  the  gas,  for  the  room  had 
grown  dark.  The  recollection  of  what  she  had 
seen  was  constantly  in  her  mind,  though  she  kept 
repeating:  "It  will  end  there.  Guy  will  never 
be  a  drunkard.  He  will  never  do  so  again." 
Her  last  thought  after  retiring  was  : 

"It  was  his  first,  it  will  be  his  last. "  No  sleep 
would  have  come  to  her  eyes  that  night  had  she 
seen  her  brother's  giddy  movements,  or  heard 
the  coarse,  rude  jest.  Surely  that  man  could 
not  be  the  refined  Dr.  Denesmore  who  had  only 
been  known  as  a  gentleman  until  now.  It  did 
not  stop  with  the  first  nor  the  second  glass.  No 
one,  save  Mark,  made  an  effort  to  stop  him  till 
his  brain  was  in  a  whirl,  and  his  actions  had  be- 
come idiotic.  Then  Ernest,  ashamed  of  him, 
led  him  away  and  put  him  to  bed. 

"It's  always  the  case,  father,"  he  said.  "Let 
a  boy  be  taught  temperance,  and  you  will  make 
a  drunkard  out  of  him.  If  you  don't  want  to 
raise  drunkards,  never  try  to  teach  them  such 
silly  nonsense.  But  Doc.  is'nt  to  blame ;  he  is 
a  jolly  good  fellow,  and  will  get  over  this  in 
time." 


THE   WORST   FOE.  197 

Next  morning  Pauline  found  herself  nervous 
and  restless.  Guy's  first  glass  was  constantly  in 
her  mind.  Although  she  thought  it  would  bring 
no  harm  to  him,  she  kept  repeating  : 

"It  was  his  first,  but  it  will  also  be  nis  last 
glass." 

So  strong  became  the  impulse  to  know  some- 
thing about  him,  that  she  concluded  to  make  a 
morning  call  on  her  brother.  She  had  the  horses 
harnessed  to  her  cutter  and  was  soon  at  Mr. 
Day's  house.  The  servant  said  none  of  the  fam- 
ily was  up  except  Mark. 

"Guy  not  up,  and  it  eleven  o'clock,"  she  said 
to  herself.  She  was  sitting  in  the  parlor  hesitat- 
ing whether  to  go  or  remain,  when  Mark  Day 
came  in  the  room  silent  and  sad.  She  missed 
his  merry  whistle,  and  knew  in  a  moment  that 
something  was  wrong. 

"Good  morning,  Miss  Denesmore,  is'nt  it 
early  for  you  to  be  out?"  he  asked. 

"Early!  it  is  eleven  o'clock,  Mark,  and  they 
say  Guy  is  not  up  yet.  I  never  knew  him  to 
sleep  so  late  before." 

Mark  excused  his  tardiness  in  rising  by  say- 
ing: "Some  friends  remained  until  late  in  the 
evening,  and  I  guess  he  has  overslept  himself," 
but  at  the  same  time  he  avoided  Pauline's  eye. 

"Mark,  tell  me,  did  Guy  drink  any  more  last 
evening?" 

'  'It's  too  bad  Miss  Denesmore,  but  you  know 


198  THE  WORST  FOE. 

it's  the  second  day  of  the  New  Year,  and — and 
Guy's  not  well,  that's  all,"  he  stammered,  after 
a  moment's  hesitation.  For  a  while  the  poor 
girl  stood  trembling  with  a  terrible  apprehension, 
and  then  she  said  : 

"Take  me  to  his  room,  Mark." 

After  a  moment's  reflection,  Mark  answered  : 
"I  will  speak  to  him,  probably  he  would  rather 
see  you  here." 

"Mark,  was  it  the  wine  that  made  Guy  sick?" 

"Well,  no,  not  exactly.  The  wine  led  to  it. 
It  was  the  mixed  drinks  stronger  than  wine,  and 
making  a  regular  night  of  it." 

Guy  was  very  much  displeased  with  himself, 
and  he  was  not  only  sick  in  body,  but  at  heart. 
There  was  a  gnawing  of  conscience  which  made 
him  feel  ill  at  ease.  His  head  throbbed  with 
pain  and  when  he  was  informed  his  sister  wanted 
to  see  him,  he  attempted  to  rise,  but  his  head 
was  still  in  a  whirl,  his  stomach  nauseated, 
and  he  was  forced  to  lie  down  again.  Finding 
that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  rise,  he 
consented  to  have  Pauline  come  to  his  room. 
As  Mark  closed  the  door  behind  him,  Guy 
thought : 

'  'What  a  fool  I  have  been  ;  put  a  blot  on  my 
name!  disgraced  myself!  Been  on  a  drunk! 
how  does  it  sound  ?  How  will  my  friends  like  it  ? 
My  parents  will  not  be  proud  of  me  any  more, 
and  poor  Pauline,  it  will  almost  kill  her.  Shf  is 
so  sensitive  on  such  things. " 


THE    WORST   FOE.  199 

He  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  as  Pauline  en- 
tered. For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  did  not 
want  to  see  his  sister,  or  any  one.  Pauline  came 
to  his  bedside,  and  in  a  voice  which  trembled 
with  suppressed  emotion,  said  : 

"I  called  to  see  you  yesterday,  Guy,  and 
waited  sometime  in  the  back  parlor  for  you  to 
be  at  liberty.  I  wanted  to  say  '  Happy  New 
Year.'" 

"It  was  too  bad;  what  time  were  you  here?  " 
asked  Guy,  still  keeping  his  face  averted. 

"About  three  o'clock.  Does  your  head  ache, 
brother  ?  "  she  asked,  placing  her  hand  across 
his  forehead. 

"It  is  better  now,"  he  answered.  "But  Paul- 
ine, why  did  you  not  wait  until  you  could  speak 
to  me  yesterday?  " 

"I  could  not  stay  after  what  I  saw,"  she  an- 
swered, while  tears  started  from  her  eyes. 

"What  did  you  see,  Pauline,"  he  asked,  with 
a  desperate  effort  at  innocence. 

"I  saw  you  take  your  first  glass,  Guy,  and  I 
learned  this  morning  what  followed.  Oh,  Guy ! 
try  to  outlive  it,  and  I  hope  it  may  be  the  last. 
I  blame  myself  that  I  did  not  go  to  your  side 
yesterday  and  take  the  glass  from  your  hand." 

"Do  not  blame  yourself.  It  was  my  own 
weakness  that  was  at  fault,  but  you  can  rest  as- 
sured that  this  is  the  last.  I  hope  that  neither 
fa'ber  >,or  mother  will  hear  of  it,  and  I  do  not 


2OO  THE   WORST   FOE. 

think  they  will.  Father  never  goes  where  drink- 
ing carousals  are  discussed,  and  no  one  would  be 
so  heartless  as  to  tell  mother." 

The  door  opened,  and  Maria  in  a  loose  wrap- 
per, looking  very  cross  and  peevish,  entered. 
The  frown  on  her  face  deepened  when  she  dis- 
covered Pauline  at  Guy's  bedside. 

"What  is  the  trouble?  "  she  asked  in  a  snap- 
pish tone.  "I  think  you  are  rather  early  Paul- 
ine." 

"Oh,  Maria,  I  am  almost  heartbroken  over 
what  Guy  did  yesterday.1' 

"You  are  very  foolish  to  allow  yourself  to  be 
annoyed  over  so  frivolous  a  matter  as  that,"  said 
Maria,  contracting  her  pretty  brow  into  a  frown. 
'  'The  best  gentlemen  in  the  land  get  on  a  spree 
once  in  a  lifetime.  It  was  New  Year's  day,  and 
Guy,  who  had  been  used  only  to  milk  and  water, 
was  unaccustomed  to  the  strength  of  good  society 
beverage  on  such  occasions.  Don't  blame  him, 
but  blame  the  way  he  was  brought  up. " 

"Maria,"  said  Guy  spiritedly,  "say  no  more 
about  this,  for  I  assure  you  I  am  not  proud  of 
it.  I  would  not  have  my  mother  know  it  for 
any  thing  in  the  world." 

"How  did  you  know  it,  Pauline, "  Maria  asked 
with  a  frown  still  on  her  pretty  face.  Pauline 
told  her  how  she  had  come  to  make  a  New 
Year's  call,  and  had  witnessed  her  brother  take 
his  first  glass  of  intoxicating  liquors. 


THE  WORST  FOE.  2OI 

"I  think  you  get  over  your  mourning  rather 
soon,  to  enter  a  house  among  gay  guests  on  such 
an  occasion  as  yesterday  was,"  said  Maria  sarcas- 
tically. 

"Yes,  I  came  wnere  I  could  see  and  hear  the 
gay  assembly,  and  was  just  in  time  to  witness 
my  brother  drink  his  first  glass,  put  into  his  hand 
by  his  wife, "  was  the  keen  retort,  and  fearing  she 
would  say  mote,  Pauline  rose  and  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

FIVE    YEARS    LATER. 

Oh  unexpected  stroke,  worse  than  of  death, 
Must  I  thus  leave  thee,  Paradise  ?    Thus  leave 
Thee,  native  soil,  these  happy  walks  and  shades, 
Fit  haunt  of  g<-ds?     Where  I  had  hoped  to  spend 
Quiet,  though  sad,  the  respite  of  that  day 
That  must  be  mortal  to  us  both. 

— Milton. 

TTTIME  works  wonders.  Many  thousands  of 
^  changes  are  brought  about  in  the  lapse  of 
five  years.  Some  changes  are  for  the  better  and 
some  for  the  worse.  The  human  family  seems 
playing  on  a  great  teeter.  One  generation  we 
find  going  up  and  their  descendants  coming  down, 
while  those  who  were  down  the  generation 
before,  are  now  going  up.  It  is  a  psychological 
puzzle  which  baffles  the  skill  of  the  deepest  phil- 
osopher. When  wt  draw  the  curtain  aside 
and  look  upon  the  work  wrought  in  the  Denes- 
more  family  by  five  short  years,  we  are  wont  to 
exclaim:  "Oh,  change!  Oh  wondrous  change, 
what  has  done  it?  What  has  bleached  Mrs.  Den- 
esmore's  hair  until  it  is  almost  white  as  snow? 
What  has  made  her  step  more  feeble  than  if  she 

202 


THE  WORST  FOE.  20^ 

had  passed  her  threescore  years,  and  what  has 
deepened  those  lines  upon  the  once  handsome 
face,  until  she  has  the  appearance  of  being 
wrinkled  and  old  ?  Not  only  Mrs.  Denesmore 
in  her  widow's  weeds  and  haggard  wretchedness 
speaks  of  the  terrible  change,  but  every  trace 
of  joy  and  happiness  has  disappeared  from  Paul- 
ine's face,  leaving  a  sad,  aching  void,  which  be- 
speaks a  tale  of  woe  most  terrible  to  think  of. 
Maria  seems  to  have  grown  much  older  than  she 
Bhould  be,  and  there  is  a  wearied,  dissatisfied 
look  on  her  face  which  seems  to  sharpen  her 
soured  temper,  and  her  eyes  have  grown  red  with 
weeping  and  watching.  Why  all  this  misery? 
Why  such  visible  signs  of  woe  ?  There  is  no 
crape  on  the  door — it  cannot  be  death. "  Though 
the  Denesmore  homestead  has  lost  some  of  its 
grandeur  and  beauty  in  its  ornamentation,  it  is- 
still  comfortable  and  elegant. 

It  is  the  blighting  curse  of  rum  which  has  fallen 
on  the  once  happy  home  of  the  Denesmore's. 
Hearts,  instead  of  doors  are  draped  in  mourning, 
and  heads  are  bowed  to  the  dust  in  humiliation 
and  shame.  Days  and  nights  of  anxious  watch- 
ing are  tellingon  the  mother,  sister  and  wife  of 
Dr.  Guy  Denesmore.  In  Guy  there  is  the  sad- 
dest and  most  marked  change  of  all.  From  the 
handsome,  genteel  young  physician  as  we  knew 
him,  he  has  become  the  bloated,  degraded,  drunk- 
en wretch  of  the  present.  That  poor  old  mother 


2O4  THE   WORST  FOE. 

who  has  watched  him  so  many  anxious  days, 
hoping,  fearing,  and  praying  for  his  reformation, 
was  at  last  compelled  to  admit  that  her  son  was 
treading  the  downward  road  to  ruin.  What  a 
humiliating  acknowledgment  for  a  mother  to 
make,  that  her  dutiful,  loving  son  was  an  irre- 
deemable drunkard.  He  of  whom  she  was  so 
justly  proud,  and  who  should  have  been  the 
prop  and  stay  of  her  declining  years  was  now 
a  complete  wreck,  while  his  self-sacrificing  mother 
was  utterly  powerless  to  check  his  downward 
career.  This  has  made  the  change.  When  we 
think  of  Guy  Denesmore  as  he  was,  and  see  him 
as  he  is,  a  bloated,  stupefied,  degraded  human 
being,  we  feel  constrained  to  ask,  '  'Is  it  possible?" 
But  such  changes  are  not  uncommon,  and  will 
be  witnessed  as  long  as  saloons  are  permitted  to 
flourish  in  our  country.  Why  boast  of  freedom 
when  the  most  abject  slavery  is  everywhere  in 
our  land  ?  Are  we  free  from  crime,  sin  and  mis- 
ery, when  rum  holes  are  on  every  corner  and  the 
devil's  emissaries  are  ever  ready  to  lay  hands 
upon  the  unwary,  and  under  the  guise  of  friendship 
drag  him  into  some  saloon  where  the  fetters  of 
his  slavery  may  be  more  closely  riveted? 

Pauline  stood  at  the  window,  gazing  out  upon 
the  scene  which  had  been  familiar  to  her  from 
early  childhood.  That  scene  is  very  nearly  the 
same  as  when  presented  to  the  reader.  Some  o/ 
the  trees  have  grown  a  little  taller,  a  little  larg**« 


THE  WORST  FOE.- 

and  the  improvements  are  just  a  little  out  of  re- 
pair, but  in  the  main  the  scene  is  about  the  same. 
But  how  changed  is  Pauline  since  we  first  knew 
her.  That  heart  then  overflowing  with  youthful 
merriment,  is  full  of  dark  despair.  Those  eyes 
then  sparkling  with  brightness  are  now  sad  and 
downcast. 

"Oh,  how  can  we  leave  our  home  !  this  dear 
old  place  where  I  was  born  ?  "  she  asked  aloud. 
The  words  seemed  bursts  of  agony  wrung  from 
her  heart.  Her  mother  heard  her,  and  began 
sobbing  with  a  grief  which  would  not  be  sup- 
pressed. Pauline,  blaming  herself  for  allowing 
her  emotions  to  overcome  her,  hastened  to  her 
mother's  side,  and  throwing  her  arms  about  her, 
said  : 

"We  have  a  whole  year  to  stay  here  yet, 
mother ;  perhaps  our  Heavenly  Father  will  call 
us  home  before  the  time  shall  expire.  I  am  so 
thankful  that  father  was  spared  this  affliction. 
He  died  without  knowing  that  Guy  had  even 
taken  his  first  glass.  Although  it  might  not  have 
happened  had  father  lived,  I  am  glad  he  was  called 
home  before  the  great  blow  fell." 

"No,  no,  no,  he  could  not  have  saved  him. 
The  evil  had  too  powerful  a  hold  on  Guy  before 
any  of  us  even  suspected  it.  His  father  would 
have  been  blinded  and  deceived  the  same  as  we 
were,"  the  mother  answered  sadly, 

"But  his  father  would  have  been  able  to  keep 


2O6  THE  Wf     ST  FOE. 

the  property,"  chimed  in  the  selfish  Maria.  "I 
don't  know  what  is  going  to  become  of  me  unless 
I  go  back  to  my  mother." 

No  one  made  any  answer,  and  silence — a  long 
silence  ensued.  Guy's  experience  was  the  same 
as  the  experience  of  many  hundreds  before  him, 
— he  fully  intended  that  the  first  glass  should  be 
his  last.  He  had  acted  wholly  from  impulse  in 
taking  his  first  glass,  and  had  formed  the  resolu- 
tion so  often  formed,  to  stop  right  there.  But 
lie  had  found  wine  pleasant  to  the  taste,  and  the 
second  glass  was  exhilarating  and  called  for  the 
third,  and  so  on  until  it  all  ended  in  a  night  of 
debauchery,  followed  by  a  day  of  mental  and 
physical  suffering.  When  he  was  able  to  go  out 
on  the  streets  again  he  felt  that  he  was  greatly 
changed.  Until  this  moment  of  his  life  he  had  lived 
above  reproach,  and  nothing  could  be  said  against 
his  character,  but  the  recollection  of  last  night's 
debauch  made  him  quite  crestfallen.  He  had 
scarcely  entered  his  office,  when  one  of  his  fast 
acquaintances  of  New  Year's  day  entered,  and 
•slapping  him  gaily  on  the  shoulder  said  that  he 
was  now  one  of  them,  and  it  would  not  go  so 
hard  next  time,  and  concluded  by  inviting  him 
across  the  street  to  "wet  his  whistle."  Guy  po- 
litely, yet  firmly  refused,  and  his  new  acquaintance 
with  a  hearty  laugh,  went  away  saying  : 

"You'll  get  over  it,  Doc,  and  come  round  yet. 
I'll  not  urge  you,  but  I  know  you  are  bound  to 


THE   WORST   FOE.  2O/ 

become  one  of  the  b-hoys. "  It  had  always  been 
a  fixed  principle  of  Guy,  to  attend  strictly  to  his 
own  business  and  antagonize  no  one.  Others 
could  do  just  as  they  pleased,  he  would  not  dic- 
tate. Guy  would  laugh  at  William  Strasmore, 
who  never  lost  a  chance  to  lecture  on  the  evils 
of  intemperance.  When  the  young  man  insin- 
uated to  Guy  a  few  days  after  his  first  glass,  that 
he  always  knew  he  would  be  one  of  their  set, 
he  thought  of  William  Strasmore,  who  had  always 
adopted  the  theory  of  coming  out  from  among 
those  in  whom  he  did  not  believe.  "No  one 
ever  thought  he  would  be  one  of  their  set,"  said 
the  young  doctor  as  he  reflected  on  the  act  which 
he  deemed  a  disgrace  to  him.  Young  men  of 
wealth  and  station,  called  to  remind  Guy  that  he 
was  one  of  their  set,  and  by  delicate  inuendoes 
sought  to  compliment  his  humor  .during  the  little 
spree.  He  felt  thankful  when  a  professional  call 
brought  him  back  to  the  realities  of  the  business 
world.  From  that  time  forth  he  seemed  to  see 
through  a  new  pair  of  eyes. 

Before  a  month  of  the  New  Year  was  gone, 
Guy  was  summoned  to  the  bedside  of  his  father, 
who  had  suddenly  been  seized  with  a  malignant 
fever.  Anxious  days  and  nights  of  watching 
were  spent.  The  best  physicians  the  city  afforded 
were  called  in  counsel,  but  all  of  no  avail.  Both 
love  and  skill  failed,  and  one  evening,  as  the  sun 
was  sinking  in  the  west,  the  family  gathered 


2O8  THE  WORST  FOE. 

about  the  dying  Christian  to  witness  the  last 
struggle.  Guy  stood  by  his  grief-stricken  moth- 
er, and  watched  the  wave  of  life  surging  to  and 
fro.  When  almost  over,  and  the  dying  man 
stood  as  it  were  with  one  foot  on  earth  and  one 
in  Heaven,  he  seemed  to  revive  a  moment  as  if 
to  give  some  parting  blessing  or  instruction.  Guy 
bent  low  to  catch  what  trembled  on  his  lips.  In 
a  low,  yet  distinct  murmur  the  dying  father 
said: 

"My  son,  I  entrust  your  mother  ana  sister  to 
your  care."  He  was  forced  to  pause,  for  his 
breath  was  growing  very  short,  and  for  a  few 
moments  the  silence  was  broken  only  by  the 
sobs  of  the  weeping  family.  Having  regained 
sufficient  strength,  he  continued :  '  'Guy,  it  is  a 
great  trust ;  be  faithful  to  it.  Be  a  dutiful  son 
to  your  mother,  and  a  kind  brother  to  your 
sister." 

There  were  other  words  murmured  like  the 
faint  echoes  coming  from  the  borderland  of  shad- 
ows, but  so  faintly  were  they  breathed,  that  no 
intelligence  could  be  gleaned  from  the  accents. 
All  then  became  still.  The  eyes  were  fixed  and 
glassy  and  the  breathing  had  stopped.  Guy 
knew  that  his  father  was  gone.  Gone  to  that 
land  from  whose  mysterious  bourne  no  traveler 
ever  returns.  When  the  last  sad  rites  were  over, 
and  Pauline  was  left  alone,  she  remembered  that 
Guy  was  surrounded  by  temptations  which  even 


THE  WORST  FOE. 

his  strength  might  not  be  able  to  resist.  The 
recollection  of  that  first  glass  was  so  indelibly  im- 
pressed on  her  mind,  that  time  would  not  efface 
it.  If  she  always  had  him  at  her  side,  she  thought 
he  would  be  safe,  and  after  consulting  with  her 
mother  on  the  subject,  they  requested  young  Dr. 
Denesmore  to  come  and  share  their  home  with 
them.  Their  plan  succeeded  much  better  than 
they  dared  hope,  for  even  Maria  willingly  con- 
sented, and  a  few  weeks  later  they  were  installed 
in  the  old  homestead  of  the  Denesmores. 

A  few  months  later,  Dr.  Denesmore  was 
blessed  with  a  beautiful  infant.  The  whole  fam- 
ily almost  worshipped  the  little  girl  baby,  and 
though  an  experienced  nurse  was  employed,  its 
grandmother  Denesmore  and  aunt  Pauline  were 
its  real  nurses.  They  believed  that  love  could 
do  more  with  a  weak  baby  than  hired  skill.  At 
Pauline's  earnest  request,  the  baby  was  given 
her  name,  and  became  the  sweet  little  Pauline 
number  two.  She  was  cross  and  fretful,  as  babies 
usually  are,  but  her  aunt  Pauline  as  self-consti- 
tuted nurse,  never  grew  tired  of  trying  to  alleviate 
her  infant  sufferings,  night  nor  day.  The  baby 
annoyed  its  mother  very  much,  for  Maria  never 
could  endure  a  crying  child.  Maria's  mother 
advised  that  she  have  some  choice  wine  to 
strengthen  her,  and  suggested  weakened  liquor 
for  the  baby.  Mrs.  Denesmore's  orthodox  reg- 
ularity was  of  course  shocked  by  this  suggestion, 


2IO  THE  WORST   FOE. 

and  she  opposed  it  from  the  first.  She  spoke  of 
her  own  success  in  baby  raising,  and  said  her 
children  were  healthy  from  birth  to  maturity, 
without  the  aid  of  any  alcoholic  liquors.  Mrs. 
Day  declared  that  as  she  had  raised  one  more 
baby  than  Mrs.  Denesmore,  her  judgment  on 
such  matters  was  preferable.  Although  Pauline 
plead  earnestly  with  them  not  to  stupefy  the 
bright  little  intellect  with  alcoholic  drinks,  her 
opinion  on  baby  raising  was  held  at  naught,  and 
she  of  course  was  not  to  be  consulted.  Mrs. 
Day  told  how  cross  and  fretful  Ernest  was,  and 
how  completely  she  was  worn  out,  until  a  wise 
physician  recommended  beer,  ale  and  wine,  and 
what  a  good  child  he  was  after  that,  just  slept  all 
the  time  unless  he  was  hungry. 

"He  often  takes  long  sleeps  from  the  effect  of 
those  drinks  yet,"  said  Guy  to  his  wife  when 
Maria  had  communicated  to  him  what  her  moth- 
er had  said.  Maria's  eyes  flashed  fire  at  the  insin- 
uation, and  then  and  there  settled  the  liquor 
question.  The  very  next  day  she  told  her 
mother  to  bring  just  what  she  thought  best  for 
her,  and  if  her  husband  would  not  furnish  her  the 
necessaries  of  life,  her  father  would.  Guy  who 
had  not  refused  her  request  from  niggardly  views, 
felt  not  a  little  piqued  at  her  remark.  He  was 
about  to  make  some  keen  retort,  but  checking 
himself,  he  left  the  house.  It  was  some  time 
before  he  returned,  and  when  he  did  a  glass  of 


THE  WORST  FOE.  211 

wine  and  a  bottle  of  beer  stood  on  the  small 
stand  at  Maria's  bedside.  She  was  victorious, 
and  could  afford  to  be  amiable  toward  her  hus- 
band, and  when  her  supply  of  liquor  was  gone, 
she  insisted  on  her  husband  getting  more.  In 
order  to  prooure  it,  he  went  to  a  place  he  had 
never  frequented.  There  he  met  the  same  fast 
young  men  who  had  declared  they  always  knew 
he  would  be  "one  of  the  b-hoys. " 

"Doc,  you'd  better  sample  that  wine  before 
you  take  it  away,"  said  one  of  the  fast  young 
men.  He  did  so,  and  may  be  said  to  have  enter- 
ed on  the  broad  highway  to  ruin  from  that  date. 
His  wife,  his  friends  and  everybody  save  his 
mother  and  sister,  who  might  be  fanatics  on  the 
subject,  seemed  to  be  drawing  him  upon  this 
broad  highway. 

Ernest  Day  was  a  close  student  of  human  na- 
ture. He  had  made  men  a  life-long  study.  He 
knew  just  how  far  to  lead  George  Hammond 
before  turning  him  over  to  the  bad.  He  also 
knew  to  what  length  Dr.  Denesmore  would  go 
if  once  a  slave  to  strong  drink.  He  witnessed 
Guy's  first  glass  with  a  feeling  of  exultation.  It 
may  seem  strange  that  he  desired  the  ruin  of  his 
sister's  husband,  yet  from  purely  selfish  motives 
and  a  desire  for  revenge,  he  deliberately  planned 
it. 

We  will  not  go  into  details.  Guy  fell  time  and 
again,  keenly  feeling  the  mortification  with  each 


212  THE   WORST  FOE. 

return  to  soberness,  and  resolving  at  each  time 
that  it  should  be  the  last.  We  can  form  an  idea 
of  what  it  is  to  make  a  resolution  of  that  kind, 
but  we  have  no  idea  of  the  strength,  the  support 
and  help  a  man  needs  to  resist  such  temptation 
when  placed  before  him.  When  the  appetite  has 
been  created, then  even  iron  wills  breakdown  be- 
neath it.  We  are  too  harsh  with  the  liquor 
drinker,  but  not  harsh  enough  with  the  liquor 
seller.  While  the  temptation  is  permitted  to  be 
placed  before  them,  a  large  per  cent,  of  the 
tempted  will  fall.  Other  vices  join  hands  with 
intemperance,  and  all  conspire  to  whirl  the  victim 
on  to  certain  ruin. 

Thus  it  was  with  Dr.  Denesmore.  The  vice 
of  drinking  was  accompanied  by  the  kindred  vice 
of  gambling,  and  the  large  fortune  left  him  by 
his  father,  with  the  additional  amount  he  had  ac- 
cumulated himself,  was  soon  swallowed  up  ;  all 
gone  before  he  was  hardly  aware  of  it.  One 
morning  after  a  night's  debauch,  he  found  him- 
self penniless,  disgraced  and  ruined. 

He  could  not  bear  to  meet  his  family  and  the 
loving  caress  of  his  little  girl,  who  was  then  at 
that  charming  age  when  she  had  begun  to  put 
baby  thoughts  into  baby  words.  His  thoughts 
were  mainly  of  the  child  he  had  cheated  and 
wronged. 

"Oh,  Heaven,  I  have  disgraced  and  robbed 
her !  She  is  ruined,  a  beggar,  and  I  have  done 


THE   WORST    FOE.  21 3 

ft !  I  wish  I  were  dead.  No,  no,  I  am  cursed 
if  I  live,  but  not  fit  to  die." 

The  wretched  man  walked  the  floor  of  his  office 
which  was  now  seldom,  if  ever,  visited  by  a  patient. 
Dr.  Patterson  had  dissolved  the  partnership  be- 
tween them  some  months  previous,  and  Dr. 
Denesmore  seldom  had  a  call.  Dr.  Pat- 

terson, Guy's  senior  partner  had  tried  hard  to 
redeem  him,  but  finally  gave  him  up  when  he 
found  it  absolutely  necessary. 

The  devil  always  sends  his  agent  in  due  time 
to  prevent  his  victims  from  throwing  off  the 
chains  which  he  is  closely  riveting,  and  is  never 
too  late  to  head  off  reformation.  It  was  so  on 
this  morning  when  Guy  Denesmore  was  on  the 
eve  of  .reforming  or  committing  suicide.  Ernest 
Day,  with  oily  words  of  sympathy,  tempered 
with  encouragement,  came  to  Dr.  Denesmore's. 
The  doctor  could  not  recognize  anything  in  him, 
save  what  he  pretended  to  be.  Guy  Denesmore 
was  not  a  character  reader  ;  he  was  also  unsus- 
picious, and  the  very  man  to  be  made  a  victim 
by  such  an  unscrupulous  person  as  Ernest 
Day.  Even  if  he  had  suspected  his  design,  he 
had  not  strength  to  say  :  '  'Get  thee  behind  me, 
Satan  " 

Ernest  quickly,  carefully  and  deftly  sketched 
a  prosperous  future  for  the  ruined  man,  and  bade 
him  take  heart.  He  was  young,  with  a  consti- 
tution as  yet  but  little  impaired,  and  able  to 


214  THE    WORST   FOE. 

be  a  man  among  men.  Upon  Guy  making 
promises  to  reform  (the  devil  is  usually  a  re- 
former), Ernest  agreed  to  meet  all  of  Guy's  lia- 
bilities, furnish  him  capital  for  a  new  start,  and 
try  to  reinstate  him  with  Dr.  Patterson. 

"Old  Doc  thinks  a  great  deal  of  you,"  Ernest 
continued  with  a  shrewd  smile.  ."By  a  little 
caution,  and  going  on  just  as  you  should,  you 
can  come  into  his  practice,  for  he  will  soon  re- 
tire." 

"But  you  cannot  do  this  much  for  me  just  on 
the  strength  of  my  word, "  said  Guy  thoughtfully. 

"No,  hardly,"  Ernest  answered  with  a  bland 
smile.  "It  would't  be  very  business-like,  and  I 
am  a  great  stickler  for  having  everything  busi- 
ness-like. I  will  do  all  in  my  power  to  redeem 
you  and  your  lost  fortune,  and  give  vou  another 
lift." 

"But  I  have  nothing  to  secure  you,"  inter- 
rupted Guy. 

"No,  I  know  you  have  nothing  of  your  own, 
but  I  thought  your  mother  and  sister  might  mort- 
gage the  home  place  for  the  money." 

"What !  "  broke  in  Guy,  in  rage  and  astonish- 
ment, '  'ask  them  to  sign  away  the  old  home  ? 
No !  better  eke  out  a  miserable  existence  or  sink 
forever  from  sight  in  the  slough  of  despondency. 
I  would  not  care  if  it  was  not  for  my  baby." 

Guy  could  say  no  more.  He  broke  down 
almost  completely,  and  turned  away  his  head. 


THE    WORST    FOE.  215 

The  cool,  shrewd,  calculating  Ernest  Day,  stood 
smiling  blandly  for  a  moment,  and  then  said : 

"You  seem  to  think  a  mortgage  is  a  warranty 
deed.  They  need  not  part  with  their  home. 
You  are  not  so  dishonest  as  to  avoid  the  payment, 
•  and  the  notes  will  be  on  the  installment  plan.  I 
will  be  lenient  with  you — as  much  so  as  possible. 
Just  regain  your  lost  reputation,  and  you  know 
your  fortune  is  made.  I  would  not  have  made 
the  proposition,  had  I  not  known  how  glad  your 
mother  and  sister  would  have  been  to  accommo- 
date you.  And  your  baby  will  never  know  to 
what  straits  you  have  been  reduced." 

The  last  hint  decided  Guy.  He  loved  his 
mother  and  sister,  but  his  love  for  his  child  bor- 
dered on  idolatry.  Ernest  Day  parted  from  the 
ruined  man,  as  fully  confident  that  he  would  own 
the  home  of  Pauline  Denesmore,  as  if  he  had 
had  the  deed  to  it,  locked  up  in  his  iron  vault 

Mrs.  Denesmore  and  Pauline  heard  Guy's  res- 
olution to  do  better  with  joy  and  thankfulness. 
When  he  told  them  he  was  to  again  enter  into  a 
co-partnership  with  Dr.  Patterson,  hope  sprang 
up  once  more  in  their  breasts,  and  although 
through  Guy's  mismanagement,  all  their  property 
save  their  homestead  had  been  swept  away,  they 
were  perfectly  willing  to  trust  the  son  and  brother 
again,  and  expressed  a  hearty  willingness  to  sign 
the  mortgage.  When  Pauline  learned  that  the 
mortgage  was  to  be  made  to  Ernest  Day,  she  was 


2l6  THE   WORST  FOE. 

thoughtful  and  troubled.  "Why  could  it  not 
have  been  some  one  else?"  she  asked  herself. 
She  had  not  only  grown  to  dislike,  but  to  dread 
Ernest  Day,  who  within  the  past  year  had  per- 
sistently urged  his  suit. 

But  Pauline's  confidence  in  her  brother  was 
unbounded.  She  knew  he  would  keep  his  word, 
and  they  would  never  realize  that  any  but  them- 
selves had  a  claim  on  the  dear  old  homestead. 
The  mere  fact  of  the  mortgage  being  held  by 
Ernest  Day,  need  not  give  her  any  uneasiness. 
Her  brother  would  pay  it.  How  she  had  miscal- 
culated may  easily  be  guessed.  Though  Guy 
was  once  more  in  business  with  Dr.  Patterson,  it 
was  on  a  less  profitable  basis,  and  the  world  was 
not  to  him  as  it  had  been  before.  Confidence  in 
him  was  shaken,  and  he  not  only  found  himself 
obliged  to  battle  with  himself,  but  adversity  on 
every  hand. 

At  last  he  grew  disheartened,  discontented,  and 
fell.  The  old  life  returned  with  all  its  awful  hor- 
ror, and  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  on  that  patient 
mother  and  kind  sister.  They  knew  the  inevi- 
table fate  which  awaited  them,  and  tried  to  pre- 
pare themselves  to  meet  it.  On  the  morning 
with  which  this  chapter  opens,  Ernest  Day  had 
insulted  Pauline  by  informing  her  that  the  only 
way  she  could  save  her  home  was  by  becoming 
Mrs.  Day.  She  had  rejected  him  again,  and  in- 
dignantly ordered  him  from  her  presence.  As 
he  turned  to  go  away,  he  said : 


THE   WORST   FOE.  21/ 

"You  will  repent  this  day's  work,  Miss  Den- 
esmore.  You  may  think  now  that  it  is  an  easy 
thing  to  give  up  home  and  all,  but  you  will  yet 
learn  that  these  bombastic  words,  and  high  and 
mighty  airs  will  not  save  your  home,  nor  put 
money  in  your  pocket." 

When  Pauline  returned  to  her  room  to  be  alone, 
she  sighed  as  she  had  often  done  before,  but 
never  had  she  felt  so  wronged.  She  had  now 
grown  to  hate  Ernest  Day  and  could  no  longer 
endure  his  presence.  Deeply  feeling  her  humil- 
iation, she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  cried: 

"Oh,  Willie,  Willie,  Willie,  had  your  life  been 
spared,  all  this  woe  would  have  been  averted. 
Your  own  strong  arm  could  have  saved  Guy.  I 
dare  not  think  of  Guy  as  he  was  five  years  ago, 
and  then  look  at  him  as  he  is  now." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ARTHUR     TEMPLETON. 

"Oft  does  the  heart  indulge  the  rising  thought 
Which  still  recurs,  unlocked  for  and  unsought  i 
My  soul  to  Fancy's  fond  suggestion  yields, 
And  roams  romantic  o'er  her  airy  fields." 

— Byron. 

H  E  five  years  that  have  passed,  have  wrought 
as  wonderful  a  change  in  the  Hammonds  as 
it  has  in  the  Denesmores.  Here  we  see  the 
teeter  board  of  nature  completely  changing.  As 
one  family  goes  down,  the  other  comes  up. 
Deena  Hammond,  now  contented  and  respect- 
able, even  though  the  brightest  dreams  of  her 
youth  have  faded  away  ;  five  mornings  out  of 
each  week  taking  her  place  in  the  village  school 
as  teacher  in  the  intermediate  department.  She 
is  loved  by  both  parents  and  pupils,  for  she  loves 
lier  work,  and  is  faithful  in  her  task.  There  is  a 
quiet  happiness  at  that  humble  little  cottage,  pre- 
sided over  by  Deena,  and  kept  so  neat  and  tidy 
by  her  own  industrious  hands.  It  was  an  humble 
home  'tis  true,  and  far  from  being  the  fine  man- 
sion with  gilded  halls  and  elaborate  paintings  of 

119 


THE   WORST   FOE.  2 19 

which  she  had  dreamed  when  a  child ;  but  here 
are  peace,  contentment,  and  a  quiet  joy  that 
surpasses  the  empty  pleasures  of  golden  palace. 
Every  Saturday,  Deena's  subdued  voice  could  be 
heard  humming  some  familiar  air,  as  she  went 
about  her  household  duties.  Lillie's  childish 
laughter  filled  the  house,  as  she  frolicked  with 
her  numerous  pets.  She  paused  sometimes  to 
tease  her  sister  about  Mr  Templeton,  or  tell  her 
young  friend  across  the  way  some  joke  on  him. 
Lillie  likes  Mr.  Templeton  more  than  all  her 
other  friends.  Lillie  is  not  only  a  fun-loving 
child,  but  -she  takes  time  to  build  air-castles 
for  the  future,  as  what  child  does  not.  She  in- 
tends when  grown  to  womanhood,  to  take  her  sis- 
ter's place  in  the  school  after  she  has  given  it  up, 
and  learn  to  play  the  organ  for  the  church.  It  is 
quite  a  humble  path  marked  out  by  Lillie,  and  a 
dream  that  may  be  realized  after  all.  But  she 
declares  to  her  sister  that  she  has  one  higher  am- 
bition, and  this  is  to  write  a  romance  of  real  life 
with  Mr.  Arthur  Templeton  as  the  hero,  and 
dedicate  it  to  her  sister  Deena. 

There  is  no  doubt  but  that  Lillie  was  puzzled 
to  understand  why  Deena  was  so  quiet  when  Mr. 
Templeton  was  around,  and  then  what  made  Mr. 
Templeton,  whom  she  thought  the  "smartest 
man  she  ever  knew, "  blush  and  look  so  silly  when 
talking  to  Deena.  When  Mr.  Templeton  asked 
her  sister  to  ride  with  him  in  his  new  phaeton, 


22O  THE   WORST   FOE. 

Lillie  could  not  understand  why  she  refused. 
When  Deena  was  asked  by  her  little  sister  if  she 
did  not  like  Mr.  Templeton,  she  answered : 

"Oh,  yes,  child — do  hush  dear,  you  don't 
know  just  what  you  are  talking  about." 

It  all  seemed  so  queer  to  Lillie,  and  Deena 
seemed  such  an  inconsistent  character,  that  she 
shook  her  little  head  and  said  she  could  not  have 
a  place  in  her  book. 

That  very  afternoon,  Mr.  Arthur  Templeton 
called  at  the  cottage  on  an  errand  for  his  mother. 
Deena  answered  the  bell,  and  Lillie  who  was 
watching  them,  at  once  marked  the  young  man's 
embarrassment  as  he  was  invited  into  the  little 
parlor. 

"No,  no,  thank  you,  Miss  Hammond,"  he 
stammered.  "My  mother  sent  me — or  requested 
me  to  come — or  seemed  to  think  I  had  better 
come  to  ask  your  judgment — or  invite  you  to  our 
house  to  get  your  opinion  on  the  new  organ  for 
the  church.  The  committee  of  ladies  who  have 
the  matter  in  charge,  meet  at  my  mother's  Wed- 
nesday afternoon  at  four  o'clock." 

While  delivering  this  short  message,  the  poor 
fellow  changed  color  half  a  dozen  times  and  was 
glad  to  hurry  away  when  the  last  words  were 
spoken.  When  he  was  gone,  Lillie  went  to  her 
sister,  and  in  a  teasing  mood  said  : 

"I  guess  I  can't  put  him  in  the  book  after  all. 
He's  too  awkward,  and  an  awkward  hero  would 


THE  WORST   FOE.  221 

be  sure  to  spoil  a  book.     May  be  I  could  do  it, 
though,  for  he  must  be  in  it." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Deena. 

'  'I  mean  that  Mr.  Templeton  must  be  my  hero, 
just  as  he  is  except  when  he  is  with  you,"  the 
child  answered  with  great  gravity.  '  'I  can't  have 
him  in  my  book  stammering,  and  blushing,  hold- 
ing the  rim  of  his  hat  as  if  he  was,  afraid  it  would 
turn  to  your  last  year's  poke  bonnet.  I  guess  I 
will  have  to  polish  him  some." 

While  Deena  was  listening  to  Lillie's  portrayal 
of  Mr.  Templeton's  deportment,  that  gentleman 
was  walking  rapidly  toward  his  home  very  much 
put  out  with  himself. 

"Why  am  I  so  foolish  when  in  her  presence, " 
he  asked  himself,  evidently  greatly  vexed.  "I 
seem  to  lose  all  self-command,  and  become  a 
blundering  idiot.  A  bashful  schoolboy  in  his 
first  declamation  would  do  as  well  as  I." 

That  evening,  as  his  mother  and  himself  were 
alone  in  the  quiet  little  sitting  room,  the  mother 
engaged  in  that  most  homelike  labor,  knitting, 
while  the  cat  was  purring  on  the  rug  at  her  feet, 
presenting  a  familiar,  yet  ever  new  picture  of 
peace  and  contentment,  the  son  cast  anxious  en- 
quiring glances  at  his  mother.  Mrs.  Templeton, 
with  her  snow-white  apron,  neatly  fitting  gray 
dress,  snowy  cap  frill  and  collar,  and  the  softest 
silver  hair  just  peeping  out  from  beneath  her  cap 
border,  was  a  pleasant  picture  of  ease  and  con- 


222  THE   WORST   FOE. 

tentment.  Modenia,  as  many  others,  had  found 
in  this  old  woman  a  wise  and  true  counselor. 
Three  years  ago,  as  Modenia  turned  away  from 
the  grave  of  her  father,  bowed  with  grief  at  the 
loss  of  him,  though  he  had  wrecked  his  own  life 
and  made  her  life  wretched,  and  notwithstanding 
the  knowledge  that  while  he  lived  he  was  in  con- 
stant peril  of  ' '  The  Worst  Foe,"  this  kind  lady  had 
taken  her  to  her  heart  and  comforted  her  as  only 
a  Christian  can.  As  Deena  wept  upon  her  bosom, 
she  felt  constrained  to  say :  '  'Her  people  shall  be 
my  people,  and  her  God,  my  God;"  and  from 
thenceforth  their  warm .  friendship  became  like 
that  of  mother  and  daughter. 

Arthur  Templeton  had  -marked  out  a  career 
rather  high  in  life.  When  only  a  child  he  had 
advocated  that  human  nature  would  be  human 
nature.  He  believed  in  no  such  thing  as  fate. 
The  course  he  had  marked  out  for  himself  was 
commendable,  had  he  been  equal  to  the  task. 
He  soon  found  he  was  not,  and  went  through  the 
world  a  disappointed  man.  In  early  life  he  had 
exalted  dreams  of  one  day  occupying  a  high 
place  in  the  world.  He  dreamed  of  being  a 
philanthropist,  and  devoting  his  life  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  the  general  school  system.  The 
need  of  popular  education  and  the  elevation  of 
the  masses,  he  hoped  to  impress  on  the  minds 
of  the  people.  Being  left  without  a  father  at  a 
very  early  age,  and  his  kind  mother  not  having 


THE   WORST  FOE.  22$ 

ft  in  her  heart  to  disturb  her  boy's  day-dreams 
with  the  sterner  realities  of  life,  he  was  permitted 
to  dream  on  until  he  learned  by  sad  experience 
that  his  plans  were  visionary  and  impracticable. 
After  Arthur  had  completed  his  college  course 
they  removed  to  Kansas,  where  Arthur's  father 
had  purchased  a  large  tract  of  land  shortly  before 
his  death.  Here  the  young  enthusiast  had  en- 
tered into  his  work  with  zeal  and  determination. 
When  he  first  became  acquainted  with  Modenia 
Hammond,  he  could  not  but  admire  her  self-re- 
liance and  energy.  He  soon  found  himself  call- 
ing at  her  school  rather  frequently,  but  there 
was  a  pleasure  in  these  calls,  and  in  spite  of  his 
bashfulness  they  became  more  frequent.  His 
day-dreams  changed.  Miss  Hammond  occu- 
pied a  conspicuous  place  in  them.  Soon 
after  her  father's  death  he  had  proposed  to 
her,  but  met  a  strange  rejection.  It  gave 
him  pain,  but  did  not  altogether  deprive  him  of 
hope.  Arthur  Templeton  was  greatly  in  earnest 
in  everything  he  set  himself  about,  and  he  was 
not  one  to  easily  despair. 

He  sat  for  a  long  time,  his  head  bowed  in 
thought,  while  his  mother  diligently  plied  her 
knitting  needles.  So  still  and  silent  was  he  with 
his  arms  folded  across  his  breast,  that  he  seemed 
to  be  studying  the  opposite  corner  of  the  fire- 
place. At  last  he  broke  the  silence  with  : 

"Mother,  what  do  you  think  of  Miss  Ham- 
mond?" 


224  THE  WORST  FOE. 

The  kind  old  lady  opened  her  eyes,  looked  at 
him  a  moment,  and  answered : 

"Deena  is  a  very  good  girl,  Arthur.  The 
course  she  took  with  her  intemperate  father  was 
very  wise.  It  was  a  great  trial  no  doubt  to  come 
way  out  here  among  strangers.  Her  trials  with 
him  show  real  heroism,  and  how  he  managed  to 
get  liquor  when  there  was  none,  is  surprising. 
Yet  she  never  gave  up,  and  by  her  vigilance 
made  her  father  a  sober  man  before  he  died." 

"Mother,  don't  you  think  a  woman  can  judge 
a  woman,  better  than  a  man  can  ?  " 

"Not  always — though  she  sometimes  may." 
"  A  long  silence  followed,  and  Arthur  then  com- 
menced : 

"Over  two  years  ago,  mother,  I  asked  Miss 
Hammond  to  be  my  wife." 

Mrs.  Templeton  kept  on  with  her  knitting, 
not  evincing  the  least  surprise.  Arthur  was  puz- 
zled at  his  mother's  coolness,  and  asked  : 

"Did  you  know  it?" 

"I  knew  such  was  your  intention,"  the  moth- 
er answered,  plying  her  knitting  needles  briskly. 
"Women  cannot  always  judge  women  aright,  but 
I  can  read  my  son,  I  am  sure."  He  was  silent 
and  thoughtful  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  he 
said: 

"I  shall  never  forget  the  look  of  terror  Miss 
Hammond  gave  me  when  I  proposed  marriage  to 
her.  She  sprang  to  her  feet  as  if  frightened  and 


THE    WORST    FOE.  225 

surprised,  and  cried :  'No,  no,  no,  a  thousand 
times  no ! '  She  walked  to  the  window  and 
seemed  in  great  distress,  then  threw  herself  into 
a  chair,  and  for  a  few  moments  buried  her  white 
face  in  her  hands.  When  she  looked  up  again, 
I  never  saw  such  firmness  expressed  in  features 
or  voice.  She  seemed  afraid  that  I  was  offended, 
and  went  on  to  assure  me  that  she  appreciated 
my  friendship,  but  that  no  nearer  relation  than 
the  best  friendship  could  ever  exist  between  us. 
It  has  gradually  settled  on  my  mind  that  there  is 
something  more  in  Miss  Hammond's  past  history 
than  the  care  of  an  intemperate  father  or  a  lost 
brother.  She  once  remarked  that  all  the  woe 
which  had  come  on  both  her  mother  and  herself, 
was  through  strong  drink.  What  do  you  think 
of  it  all,  mother  ?  " 

"You  have  given  up  Miss  Hammond,  have 
you  not?  "  she  asked. 

'  'I  do  not  know.  I  shall  not  urge  the  matter 
very  strongly,"  he  answered  evasively,  for  he 
was  not  willing  to  admit  even  to  his  mother,  how 
hard  the  struggle  had  really  been. 

"Whatever  there  may  be  in  Miss  Hammond's 
past  life,  my  son,  you  may  have  perfect  confi- 
dence in  her,"  said  the  mother. 

"I  have." 

"So  have  I.  Try  to  regain  her  friendship 
as  you  had  it  before  you  made  your  proposal. 
If  she  has  a  skeleton  in  the  closet,  you  can  rest 

(16) 


226  THE  WORST  FOE. 

assured  it  is  from  no  wrong  doing  on  he*  part. 
Just  wait  the  development  of  time ;  the  mist  may 
yet  clear  away ;  but  above  all  let  us  endeavor  to 
prove  ourselves  worthy  friends  of  these  orphan 
girls." 

"We  will,  mother.  I  will  ever  be  a  true, 
unselfish  friend  of  Deena  Hammond  and  her 
little  sister.  I  will  be  a  brother  to  bothk  if  I  can 
be  no  nearer  to  Deena. " 

If  Arthur  Templeton  had  seen  Deena  Ham- 
mond on  that  evening,  perusing  a  book  of  poetry 
he  had  given  her  to  read,  in  which  he  had 
marked  his  favorite  passages,  and  noted  with 
what  rapture  she  read  his  favorites,  he  might  have 
taken  hope.  As  she  pressed  the  gift,  made 
precious  for  the  giver's  sake,  to  her  heart,  she 
mentally  soliloquized : 

"Oh,  Arthur  Templeton,  I  am  proud  in  your 
love,  even  though  you  may  never  know  that  it  is 
returned.  Though  I  may  never  be  able  to  give 
you  what  the  love  of  a  true  woman's  heart  dic- 
tates— a  wife's  devotion,  it  is  better  that  I  know 
you,  for  your  love  even  from  a  distance,  has 
raised  me  above  the  ills  and  injustice  of  human- 
ity." 

Had  Arthur  Templeton  known  her  thoughts 
and  seen  her  tears,  it  would  have  settled  his  mind, 
and  no  more  would  he  have  asked  himself  the 
question,  "Does  she  care  for  me  ?  "  Mrs.  Tem- 
pleton had  read  the  hearts  of  both  her  son  and 


THE  WORST  FOE.  22J 

Deena  aright.  There  was  a  marked  change  in 
his  deportment  toward  Deena  from  that  time, 
until  Lillie  declared  that  Mr.  Templeton  could 
go  in  her  book  just  as  he  was. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


"Lo  !  a  cloud  about  to  vanish  from  the  day  ; 

And  a  brazen  wrong  to  crumble  into  clay. 

Lo !  the  right  is  about  to  conquer ;  CLKAR  THE  WAT  I 

With  the  right  shall  many  more 

Enter  smiling  at  the  door  ; 

With  the  giant  wrong  shall  fall 

Many  others,  great  and  small, 
That  for  ages  long  have  held  us  for  their  prey, 
Men  of  thought  and  men  of  action, CLEAR  THE  WAY  I 

— Charles  Mackay. 

NO  TRACE  of  William  Strasmore's  assassin 
had  been  found.  Although  the  most  skillful 
detectives  had  been  employed  to  work  the  case,  so 
carefully  had  the  murderer  covered  his  tracks, 
there  was  no  clue  left  to  work  on.  His  friends 
and  outraged  law  could  only  wait  and  hope  that 
in  time  "murder  would  out." 

The  good  seed  sown  by  William  Strasmore, 
had  taken  root,  and  was  now  ready  to  multiply. 
His  class  of  thirteen  boys  whom  we  have  men- 
tioned, as  they  stood  beside  the  dead  form  of 
their  beloved  instructor,  and  realized  that  their 
dearest,  wisest  earthly  counselor  had  been  snatch- 

228 


THE    WORST    FOE.  22p 

ed  away  from  them,  perhaps  by  the  demons 
against  whom  he  made  war,  vowed  then  and  there, 
eternal  enmity  to  rum.  They  did  not  seek  re- 
venge against  even  his  fell  destroyer,  for  his  as- 
sassin was  man,  and  William  Strasmore  but  a 
martyr  to  the  truth;  but  they  sought  vengeance, 
and  the  destruction  of  the  enemy  of  mankind, 
The  Wotst  Foe,  KING  ALCOHOL.  By  the  side  of 
their  murdered  teacher,  feeling  his  loss  as  only 
boys  of  their  age  and  hard  experience  can,  they 
pledged  themselves  anew  never  to  forget  his 
teachings  ;  never  to  frequent  places  of  vice ; 
always  to  regard  whisky  as  their  worst  foe ;  to 
touch  not,  taste  not,  and  handle  not ;  and  never 
to  let  an  opportunity  pass  to  strike  a  blow  at  the 
hideous  evil  which  was  sweeping  every  day 
thousands  of  loved  ones  into  the  flaming  pit  of 
hell.  Clothed  in  this  strong  armor  of  safety, 
these  gallant  boys  have  gone  through  fiery  trials 
unscorched,  and  we  shall  hear  from  them  in  the 
future.  Some  of  them  finished  the  race  of  life 
at  an  early  age,  and  entered  into  that  joy  known 
only  to  the  blest.  Others  were  called  to  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  country.  Although  they  were 
not  free  from  the  temptations  of  strong  drink, 
although  in  every  city  and  town,  gilded  dens  of 
dee,  where  cooling  liquids  during  the  heated 
term  and  hot,  drinks  in  winter,  were  temptingly 
displayed,  they  never  yielded. 

"I'd  die  before  I'd  touch  it,"  said  Bill  Barnes, 


23O  THE  WORST   FOE. 

and  he  would.  Bill  has  been  completely  meta- 
morphosed. He  is  a  studious  lawyer's  clerk, 
and  bids  fair  to  make  a  promising  attorney.  One 
hot  day  while  in  a  strange  city  on  business,  Bill 
was  consumed  with  a  burning  thirst.  Oh,  for  a 
drink  of  cool  water !  He  was  far  from  his  hotel, 
and  he  asked  an  attorney  in  whose  office  he  was 
transacting  business,  for  a  drink  of  water. 

"Go  down  below  and  you  will  find  a  saloon. 
We  always  go  there  for  a  fresh  drink,"  said  the 
attorney.  Bill  explained  that  he  wanted  water. 
"Very  well,  they  keep  iced  water  there. " 

Bill  hesitated  several  moments,  and  decided  to 
go,  for  his  throat  was  dry  and  parched.  When 
he  entered  the  saloon  and  called  for  a  drink  of 
water,  the  proprietor  gruffly  answered  : 

"I  don't  keep  water  to  giveaway." 

"I  will  buy  it,"  said  Bill. 

"We  don't  sell  water,"  said  the  proprietor, 
"but  if  you  will  buy  a  glass  of  beer,  we  will  give 
you  all  the  water  you  want." 

Bill  reflected  a  moment,  and  his  old  reckless 
spirit  for  the  moment  got  the  better  of  him. 
"Bring  on  the  beer  and  plenty  of  iced  water." 
A  moment  later  this  smiling  agent  of  the  devil 
had  brought  the  young  man  a  glass  of  foaming 
beer  and  a  glass  of  iced  water.  Bill  paid  for 
them,  and  taking  up  the  glass  of  water,  drained  it. 

"I  have  drank  the  water,  now  you  may  have 
the  beer,"  he  said,  and  with  this  he  threw  beer, 


THE  WORST  FOE.  2$I 

glass  and  all,  into  the  proprietor's  face,  and  hur- 
riedly left  the  saloon.  This  little  incident  lead 
Bill  to  think  that  many  young  men  entering  cities 
were  forced  to  drink  liquor  they  really  did  not 
want.  He  began  advocating  a  new  reform  ;  that 
the  temperance  people  shall  provide  in  large  cities, 
suitable  places  where  pure  cold  water  could  be 
found  by  strangers,  without  having  to  go  into  a 
saloon  to  slake  their  thirst.  We  see  many  such 
fountains  now,  but  there  are  not  near  enough  to 
supply  the  demand. 

In  Staunton,  things  were  growing  worse.  The 
number  of  saloons  and  breweries  were  increasing, 
and  with  them  the  increase  in  the  number  of 
other  places  of  vice.  The  temperance  organiza- 
tions, having  lost  their  wide-awake  leader,  did 
not  feel  strong  enough  to  undertake  to  diminish 
the  increasing  strongholds  of  the  enemy,  and 
things  seemed  to  run  riot.  Temperance  people 
had  grown  discouraged  and  had  almost  abandoned 
the  field,  when  the  "Woman's  Christian  Tem- 
perance Union"  sprang  nobly  to  the  rescue,  raised 
the  battle  cry  and  rallied  the  wavering  forces  for 
a  grand  assault  against  the  enemy's  works. 

At  this  time  there  was  a  band  of  teetotalers,  the 
remnant  of  a  once  prosperous  organization,  and 
a  few  others  who  felt  like  holding  the  fort  as  long 
as  possible.  They  sought  co-operation  with  the 
Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union,  to  help 
try  and  suppress  the  evil.  Weekly  entertain- 


232  THE  WORST  FOE. 

ments  were  given,  consisting  of  temperance  lec- 
tures, songs  and  music.  These  meetings  were 
held  in  a  hall  near  the* neighborhood  where  most 
of  the  saloons  were  flourishing.  The  whisky 
men  muttered  threats  and  curses  against  this 
dangerous  organization,  as  well  as  against  the 
Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union,  which 
together  had  created  an  interest  which  was  draw- 
ing hundreds  of  customers  away  from  them. 

Soon  after  the  foreclosure  of  the  mortgage  on 
the  Denesmore  home,  George  Greene,  the  tem- 
perance boy  whom  we  have  mentioned,  and  who 
was  now  almost  a  man  and  still  a  worker  in  the 
cause,  was  placed  on  the  committee  for  arranging 
a  programme  for  the  next  entertainment.  He 
proposed  that  they  engage  Miss  Pauline  Denes- 
more  to  prepare  an  essay.  Pauline  had  been  so 
completely  buried  in  her  own  sorrow,  that  she 
had  for  the  last  few  years  almost  completely 
dropped  out  of  the  temperance  organization. 
Some  thought  it  would  be  placing  Pauline  in  an 
embarrassing  position,  but  a  gentleman  who  had 
known  her  in  the  past,  as  a  temperance  worker, 
was  sure  that  she  would  feel  a  relief  in  being  able 
to  do  the  cause  some  good  now. 

''She  was  once  well  known  in  this  city,"  the 
gentleman  continued;  "but  since  those  great 
sorrows  have  fallen  upon  her  she  has  kept  herself 
shut  out  from  the  world.  Her  sad  history  is 
well  known,  however,  and  the  announcement  that 


THE  WORST  FOE.  233 

she  is  to  speak  on  the  question  of  temperance, 
will  fill  our  hall  to  overflowing.  It  might  be  pain- 
ful to  her,  and  the  great  change  we  shall  witness 
in  her  will  be  painful  to  ourselves,  but  will  it 
not  have  its  effect  for  good  ?  Will  not  every  word 
she  utters  be  more  effective,  and  the  conviction 
of  every  truth  sink  deep  into  the  hearts  of  her 
hearers?  Nothing  is  more  impressive  than  an 
ocular  demonstration  of  an  evil,  and  such  we 
shall  have." 

When  the  request  was  made  to  Miss  Denes- 
more,  she  paused  for  a  few  moments  to  consider 
whether  she  could  accomplish  the  task  or  not. 
* 'Could  she  accomplish  any  good  by  it,"  she 
asked  herself.  She  had  once  told  her  father  that 
she  intended  to  improve  by  William's  worthy  ex- 
ample, and  "sow  by  all  waters."  Months 
had  grown  into  years,  while  she  sunk  deeper  and 
deeper  into  despair,  with  scarce  a  hope  for  any- 
thing better  in  this  life.  After  a  few  moments 
of  awkward  silence,  she  answered  : 

'  'I  am  glad  you  have  called  on  me,  for  although 
it  will  cost  me  a  great  effort,  I  am  willing  to  do 
all  in  my  power  to  put  down  the  foe  that  has 
brought  me  so  much  misery.  Although  I  may 
never  know  that  my  words  have  taken  effect,  yet 
my  soul  will  be  in  the  work,  and  we  can  only  ask 
a  blessing  thereon." 

"Your  labor  will  not  be  in  vain,  Miss  Denes- 
more,"  said  George  Greene.  "The  work  begun 


234  THE   WORST   FOE. 

by  Mr.  Strasmore,  has  brought  forth  principles 
in  us  as  fixed  as  the  stars,  and  the  harvest  is  not 
yet." 

She  consented,  and  chose  for  her  subject,  The 
Ballot.  The  committee  had  made  arrangements 
to  procure  a  prohibition  lecturer  to  follow  the 
essay,  and  on  their  return  the  programme  was 
completed  and  sent  to  the  printer.  Next  day, 
bill  posters  were  busy  putting  up  the  following ; 

"TEMPERANCE!        TEMPERANCE! 

DON'T  FAIL  TO  COME. 
MISS  PAULINE  DENESMORE, 

WILL  READ  AN  ORIGINAL  ESSAY  ON 

"THE  BALLOT," 

WHICH  WILL  BE  FOLLOWED  BY  AN  ABLE 

PROHIBITION  LECTURE, 

BY 

HON.    W.  A.  STRASMORE. 

AT  TEMPERANCE    HALL,   ON    CORNER    OF  MAIN  AND 

MYRTLE  STREETS, WEDNESDAY  EVE., 

AT  7:30  P.    M." 

December,  A.  D^,  187-. 

These  bills  were  read  and  re-read.  The  saloon 
keepers  whispered  with  each  other.  Paulinf 
Denesmore  was  going  to  read  an  original 


THE    WORST   FOE.  235 

and  they  knew  they  would  be  handled  without 
gloves.  The  name  Strasmore  produced  profound 
wonder  among  all  classes  of  people.  Who  could 
he  be  ?  probably  he  was  some  distant  relative  of 
Lawyer  Strasmore,  perhaps  he  had  inherited  his 
love  of  the  temperance  cause.  Quite  likely  this 
Hon.  W.  A.  Strasmore  was  a  great  uncle,  thought 
some.  Others  who  knew  that  William  had  no 
relatives,  thought  it  only  a  strange  co-incidence. 

George  Greene  had  chosen  the  man  Strasmore 
from  three  names  given  him,  knowing  that 
the  name  in  connection  with  Pauline's  would 
be  sure  to  attract  a  crowd,  for  everybody  had 
heard  her  sad  story.  He  was  correct,  for  the 
names  excited  comment,  and  soon  there  was 
great  anxiety  to  see  and  hear  them. 

There  were  two  persons  whose  feelings  were 
stirred  at  sight  of  these  bills.  One,  a  man  of 
means  and  fashionably  dressed,  who  might 
have  been  mistaken  for  a  gentleman,  paused  at 
one,  read  it,  and  hurried  away  down  the  street, 
while  strange  emotions  marked  his  features. 
The  other  was  a  sort  of  a  shabby  genteel  person- 
age, walking  along  the  street,  his  head  bowed 
and  steps  unsteady,  and  his  clothes  all  much  the 
worse  for  wear.  He  paused  in  front  of  one  of 
the  posters,  for  his  bleared  eyes  had  caught  a 
name  which  to  him  seemed  familiar,  and  steady- 
ing himself,  read  it  through. 

"Pauline  Denesmore — an  essay  on  the  ballot !  " 


236  THE    WORST   FOE. 

he  ejaculated,  "Oh,  Heaven,  I  have  driven  her 
to  it !  Who  is  Strasmore  ?  I  would  like  to  talk 
with  him —  no,  I  can't  meet  a  gentleman,  for  I 
feel  my  fallen  condition  every  time  I  see  one. 
Oh,  Will!  is  there  a  hereafter,  as  we  believed? 
If  I  knew  there  was  not,  to-morrow  would  know 
the  end  of  this  miserable  existence." 

The  air  seemed  filled  with  imps  and  his  hand 
became  a  wreathing  serpent  and  still  he  knew  it 
to  be  his  own  hand.  The  imps  on  his  shoulder 
almost  set  his  brain  wild  by  crying:  ''End  your 
existence  !  end  your  existence  !  " 

In  this  state  of  mind  Dr.  Denesmore  reached 
home  and  went  directly  to  Pauline's  room.  At 
sight  of  his  sister  bending  over  her  essay,  he 
gave  utterance  to  a  groan  of  anguish.  She 
laid  aside  her  manuscript,  and  went  to  work  to 
comfort  him  as  best  she  could.  He  began  talk- 
ing about  Strasmore,  and  she  tried  to  explain 
that  the  lecturer  was  only  another  man  of  the 
same  name.  He  could  not  be  related  to  William 
Strasmore  for  he  had  no  relations.  Guy  stood 
staring  at  her  in  such  a  wild  manner  that  she  be- 
came frightened,  and  was  about  to  call  some  one, 
when  he  fell  upon  the  floor,  screaming  and  claw- 
ing as  if  fighting  some  monster. 

"Take  it  off!  take  it  off !  take  this  wild-cat 
away  from  me,  it  is  tearing  my  throat  to  pieces  !" 
he  screamed.  Assistance  came  and  the  sufferer 
was  removed  to  his  room  and  Dr.  Patterson  sent 
for. 


DELIRIUM   TREMENS. 
'What  is  it,  doctor,  is  he  mad  or  insane?"    See  page  237. 


THE    WORST   FOE.  237 

Poor  Pauline  was  in  deep  distress.  She  could 
only  walk  the  floor  and  wring  her  hands  in  silence. 
What  did  all  this  madness  mean  ?  When  the 
doctor  came,  she  waited  until  he  had  examined 
his  patient  and  administered  some  nerve  quieting 
narcotics.  As  the  doctor  came  out,  he  found  the 
white-faced  lady  waiting  in  the  hall  for  him. 

"Oh  !  what  is  it,  doctor,  is  he  mad  or  insane  ?"" 
she  asked. 

"No,  no,  Miss  Denesmore,"  said  the  doctor,, 
evasively.  "Poor  Guy  is  slightly  deranged  for 
the  present,  but  I  think  he  will  come  out  of  it 
all  right.  I  shall  give  him  every  care." 

"What  is  it,  doctor,  oh,  what  gives  him  that 
wild  stare,  and  makes  him  scream  of  snakes  and 
beasts  ?  " 

"He  has  delirium  tremens  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXIV.  j 

PAULINE'S  EFFORTS  BLESSED. 

"For  nothing  lovelier  can  be  found 
In  woman,  than  to  study  household  good, 
Yet  not  so  strictly  hath  our  Lord  imposed 
Labor,  as  to  debar  us  when  we  need 
Refreshment,  whether  food,  or  talk  between, 
Food  of  the  mind." 

— Milton. 

PAULINE  was  aware  of  the  suffering  and  dis- 
grace of  her  brother,  but  the  doctor  had  pro- 
nounced him  out  of  danger  and  said  that  it  might 
be  a  lesson  to  him  yet,  and  bring  about  a  refor- 
mation. She  had  been  asked  to  help  in  the  effort 
to  suppress  this  evil;  and  timid,  modest  Pauline, 
though  not  one  of  those  persons  who  long  to  im- 
mortalize themselves  on  the  platform,  yet  re- 
solved to  do  what  she  could.  Her  words  might 
not  bear  more  than  a  feather's  weight,  yet  she 
would  add  her  mite. 

The  evening  on  which  she  was  to  make  her 
debut  came,  and  cowering,  trembling  Pauline 
tound  the  hall  crowded.  It  was  with  some  diffi- 
culty that  George  Greene  conducted  the  pale, 
trembling  young  lady  to  the  rostrum.  Her  face 

238 


THE  WORST  FOE.  239 

was  in  ghostly  contrast  with  her  mourning  gar- 
ments, and  many  who  had  known  her  only  in 
the  days  of  happiness  and  prosperity,  could  scarce 
believe  that  she  was  the  same  person. 

"Licker  done  it  all,"  Sam  Brown  whispered 
to  his  neighbor.  "I  tell  ye,  if  there's  a  cuss  on 
earth,  it's  licker. " 

The  temperance  choir  haa  prepared  that  ex- 
cellent temperance  song  composed  by  Rev.  S. 
A.  Worcester,  a  missionary  among  the  Indians, 
and  the  organ  striking  up,  they  began  the  fa- 
mous 

CRAMBAMBULI» 

My  drink  shall  be  the  flowing  fountain, 

Transparent,  sparkling,  cool  and  pure. 
Fresh  from  the  cleft  of  rock  or  mountain, 

For  fevered  head  and  thirst,  a  cure. 
Ye  maddening  drinks  begone  from  me, 

Rum,   whisky  and  crambambuli, 
Ye  pois'nous  drinks,  begone  from  me, 

Wine,  cider,  and  crambambuli.  4 

"I  saw  a  sight  most  melancholy, 

A  drunkard  in  the  public  way  ; 
His  face  was  fire,  his  voice  was  folly, 

There  wallowing,  like  a  swine  he  lay. 
Ye  fiery  drinks,  begone  from  me, 

Gin,  brandy  a-ad  crambambuli; 
Ye  drinks  of  sols,  begone  from  me, 

Ale,  porter,  and  crambambuli. 

*Crambambuli  is  a  name  given  to  a  drink  used  in  the  Ger- 
man Universities.  It  is  prepared  by  mixing  rum  and  sugar 
and  burning  it.  The  above  is  really  a  parody  composed  by 
the  missionary,  on  a  once  celebrated  drinking  song. 


24O  THE  WORST  FOE. 

"Long  as  I  live,  the  thought  I'll  cherish, 

If  Heaven  vouchsafe  to  keep  me  free, 
Strong  drink  is  but  the  way  to  perish  ; 

Cold  water  is  the  drink  for  me. 
Ye  murderous  drinks,  begone  from  me, 

Wine,  brandy  and  crambambuli, 
Ye  drinks  of  fools,  begone  from  me, 

Beer,  sherry  and  crambambuli." 

During  the  singing,  Pauline  sat  trembling  and 
dreading  the  coming  ordeal.  It  was  during  the 
third  stanza  that  she  became  quite  herself,  and  a 
firm  determination  to  do  or  die  took  possession 
of  her  soul.  She  saw  not  the  faces  of  the  au- 
dience, she  thought  not  of  herself;  she  only  saw 
the  pale  sweet  face  of  her  brother's  suffering 
child,  and  thought  of  Guy's  degradation,  and 
said  to  herself : 

'  'Now  with  all  the  strength  God  may  give  me, 
I  will  strike  a  blow  at  whisky."  When  the 
song  was  ended,  she  rose,  unrolled  her  manu- 
script, and  in  a  firm,  yet  sweetly  melancholy 
voice,  began : 

"LADIES  AND  GENTLEMEN: 

"A  few  years  ago,  had  one  told  me  that  I  should 
ever  take  the  stand  as  a  public  speaker,  I  should  have 
pronounced  that  person  a  false  prophet.  To  one 
who  does  not  desire  notoriety,  even  the  reading  of  an 
essay  is  an  arduous  task;  and  if  men  who  claim  to  be 
our  protectors  would  protect  us,  woman  would  be 
silent  on  all  subjects.  The  most  patient  wives,  moth- 
ers and  sisters  are  sometimes  roused  by  indignities 


THE  WORST  FOE.  24! 

and  cruelties  too  great  to  bear.  The  pioneer  mother, 
who  in  the  absence  of  her  husband,  defended  her 
home  against  blood-thirsty  savages,  has  for  a  century 
had  her  praises  as  a  heroine  sung.  Had  there  been 
men  at  hand  to  defend  her  and  her  children,  she 
would  never  have  taken  the  rifle  in  her  hand  to  de- 
fend herself.  It  was  only  when  the  men  proved  pow- 
erless to  defend  France,  that  Joan  d'Arc  took  the 
sword  in  hand.  It  was  only  when  the  gunners  de- 
serted the  cannon  at  Monmouth,  that  the  famous 
Captain  Molly  took  command  of  the  artillery,  and  in 
all  these  instances  women  have  been  called  heroines, 
and  their  praises  sounded  by  the  historian.  There  is 
no  one  now  so  foolish  as  to  sneer  at  them,  and  say 
their  acts  were  acts  of  folly.  Who  would  be  foolish 
enough  to  say  that  the  mother  who  defended  her 
children  from  the  savage  was  unladylike,  and  that  she 
should  have  staid  quietly  at  her  fireside,  and  let 
her  husband  or  some  of  the  hunters  come  and  defend 
her?  Woman,  you  say,  is  weak.  So  she  is,  but  in 
the  midst  of  dire  calamities,  she  has  been  known  to 
become  strong,  and  with  a  courage  equal  to  man's  has 
accomplished  wonders.  Those  heroines  of  the  past 
are  lauded  by  the  very  persons  who  to-day  sneer  at 
the  efforts  of  wives,  mothers,  daughters  and  sisters  to 
save  husbands,  fathers,  brothers  and  sons.  If  a  wo- 
man who  gallantly  risks  her  life  for  her  children,  or 
for  her  country  is  to  be  praised,  why  will  you  deride, 
abuse,  and  call  that  woman  unwomanly,  who  seeks 
to  save  those  who  are  dearer  to  her  than  life,  from  a 
living  and  an  endless  death  ?  This  question  is  not 
new,  and  yet  it  will  never  grow  old.  It  is  a  picture 


242  THE  WORST   FOE. 

upon  which  we  gaze  with  horror,  and  being  made  up 
of  living  figures  a  change  is  constantly  going  on. 
The  hunter  even  pities  the  tigress  that  defends  her 
young  ;  but  the  mother  who  would  sweep  the  rum 
shops  that  degrade  and  ruin  her  children,  from  the 
face  of  the  earth,  must  hold  her  tongue,  or  she  will 
come  under  the  awful  ban  of  unwomanly  conduct 
Women  cannot  bear  everything.  Poor  unfortunate 
females,  struggling  like  slaves  for  an  existence,  while 
they  see  the  miserable  men  who  promised  to  love 
and  protect  them,  spending  the  combined  earnings 
of  both  in  the  saloon.  Not  only  does  the  wife  find  her 
own  earnings  going  into  the  coffers  of  the  saloon 
keeper,  but  she  is  cheated  of 'the  affection  of  that 
man  who  promised  her  love  and  protection!  Grad- 
ually she  sees  the  man  who  was  once  the  kindest  of 
husbands  transformed  into  a  demon,  and  love  changed 
to  hate.  Poor  weary  soul !  no  wonder  you  rebel 
against  such  harsh  treatment,  and  forgetting  you  are 
a  woman  determine  to  be  free.  You  gentlemen  who 
have  promised  us,  and  who  still  make  lavish  promises  of 
protection,  why  do  you  not  give  it?  Look  on 
those  ragged,  helpless  children  in  the  street,  look 
at  that  pale-faced  starving  woman  in  the  alley,  and 
go  to  the  morgue  and  gaze  upon  the  disfigured  and 
swollen  victim  of  these  robbers,  and  then  deny  the 
truth  of  the  assertion.  Do  not  hurry  away,  my  friend, 
but  stand  there  long  enough  to  study  that  ghastly 
corse.  There  is  a  broad  high  brow,  which  once  a 
mother  kissed;  there  is  a  face  once  honest;  there  is 
a  great  heart  which  once  beat  warm  with  love,  but 
now  cold  and  silent  forever.  He  was  a  gentle  child, 


THE    WORST    FOE.  243 

a  loving  husband  and  kind  father,  until  caught  in  the 
toils  of  the  dread  destroyer,  he  fell.  His  whole 
nature  then  was  changed.  He  became  a  brute,  and 
all  his  love  was  changed  to  hate.  The  wife  whom  he 
once  greeted  with  words  of  affection  and  caresses, 
now  only  receives  curses  and  blows.  His  little  child- 
ren no  longer  wait  with  bright,  expectant  eyes  for 
their  father's  footsteps,  and  run  to  greet  him  on  his 
return,  but  awed  with  a  terror  the  poor  little  things 
cannot  understand,  they  hide  at  his  approach,  and 
remain  trembling  and  dreading  that  father  whom  it 
is  their  nature  to  love.  Who  blames  the  mother  of 
those  children  if  she  forgets  she  is  a  woman,  and 
arming  herself  as  best  she  can,  flies  to  the  defence  of 
herself,  her  children,  and  the  most  wretched  of  that 
wretched  family,  her  husband.  But  it  is  too  late  to 
save  him ;  his  body  lies  at  the  morgue  j  he  has  been 
slain  by  the  robbers.  Not  only  is  he  deprived  of  his  life, 
but  of  his  immortal  soul.  The  same  monsters  threaten 
her  children,  her  relatives  and  friends.  The  robber 
chief  is  KING  ALCOHOL  himself,  and  why  condemn  the 
woman,  when  she  rises«and  with  all  the  strength  she 
possesses,  defends  her  loved  ones  from  the  demon. 
Oh,  the  air  is  full  of  wailing  and  anguish  !  If  we 
would  only  open  our  eyes  and  ears  to  the  misery,  we 
would  never  sleep.  The  picture  is  too  horrible  to 
admit  of  any  sleep,  save  that  of  exhaustion.  There 
are  little  children  crying  on  the  corner  of  the  street 
now ;  their  thin  ragged  clothing  not  sufficient  to  pro- 
tect them  from  even  milder  weather  than  this.  There 
is  a  woman,  yes  many  women,  even  now,  shivering 
at  home  trying  to  warm  the  almost  lifeless  body  of  a 


244  THE   WORST   FOE. 

sick  child,  while  the  husband  and  father  is  spending 
the  money  that  should  go  to  buy  fuel  for  his  family, 
at  the  saloon.  It  is  only  one  picture  among  tens  of 
thousands  of  others,  none  of  which  are  overdrawn. 
Patient,  suffering  woman,  on  her  bended  knees,  with 
hands  clasped  and  streaming  eyes,  implores  man 
to  save  her  from  this  misery,  this  degradation  and 
woe.  If  she  goes  to  the  saloon  keeper  to  ask  him 
to  spare  her,  she  is  greeted  with  sneers,  scoffs  and 
indignation.  Those  whom  she  loves  most  are  per- 
ishing, what  must  she  do  ?  But  one  thing  seems  left 
and  that  is  prayers  and  tears.  That  poor,  suffer- 
ing woman,  feels  as  if  God  had  forsaken  her. 
She  knows  a  remedy  for  the  wrong  and  though  she 
can  whisper  it,  she  is  unable  to  bring  justice  about. 
On  that  dark  horizon  of  hers,  a  light  appears.  It 
takes  the  form  of  a  word,  and  in  bright, burnished  let- 
ters of  gold,  there  stands  out  the  word 

PROHIBITION, 

as  her  salvation.  But  how  can  she  bring  it  about  ? 
She  has  no  vote.  The  rumshops  are  there — the  temp- 
tations face  her  husband  on  every  hand,  and  she  is 
powerless  to  sweep  them  away.  Men  who  are  her 
protectors,  who  boast  of  chivalry  and  courtesy  to 
the  weaker  sex,  seem  to  forget  them  when  it  comes 
to  voting.  Licensed  robbers  and  murderers  are  per- 
mitted to  go  at  large.  Temptation  is  made  legal,  and 
the  woman  can  only  suffer  and  die  in  silence,  or  make 
her  appeal  to  man,  her  natural  protector.  As  such  I 
come  to-night.  We  ask  you  not  the  privilege  of  vot- 
ing, if  you  will  protect  us.  Your  party  fealty  may 
be  dear  to  you ;  your  obligations  to  a  political  friend 


THE  WORST  FOE.  245 

great  your  political  promises  very  sacred ;  but  what 
can  they  be  compared  to  the  interest  womankind  has 
in  this  subject?  Is  it  as  dear  as  husband,  father, 
brother  or  child  ?  Is  it  as  great  as  the  life  of  a  loved 
one  ?  Is  it  as  sacred  as  the  tie  which  binds  husband 
to  wife,  father  to  child,  or  son  to  his  parents  ? 

Then,  kind  friends,  don't  sneer  at  us  poor,  weak 
women,  when  we  appeal  to  you  to  have  mercy  on  us, 
and  protect  us  from  these  merciless  robbers  and  mur- 
derers, for  I  can  call  them  by  no  milder  term.  We 
are  in  deadly  peril,  and  from  every  wretched  hovel, 
from  every  alley  and  street  there  comes  the  cry  of 
anguish  wrung  from  the  hearts  of  mothers,  daughters 
and  sisters,  "Oh,  save  us  !  save  us!  —  spare  our 
loved  ones  !  "  Will  you  heed  our  cry?  Will  you  re- 
member it  when  you  vote,  and  cast  your  vote  for 
temperance  laws,  and  for  judges  who  will  not 
seek  technical  flaws  to  declare  them  unconstitutional. 
Give  us  relief,  for  we  are  perishing  by  thousands. 
Give  us  wholesome  prohibition  laws  and  honest  pro- 
hibition officers  to  execute  them,  and  these  dark 
clouds  will  soon  roll  away.  The  rags  will  fall  from 
the  suffering  children  on  the  streets,  to  be  replaced 
by  comfortable  clothing ;  the  pale  wan  face  of  the 
mother,  wife  and  daughter,  will  become  flushed  with 
health.  The  dark,  dreary  hovel  will  be  transformed 
to  a  comfortable  home.  Where  there  is  now  misery, 
vice,  cruelty  and  death,  there  will  be  happiness, 
peace,  prosperity,  love  and  joy,  and  such  a  burst  of 
sunshine  will  come  through  these  dark  clouds,  that 
we  will  almost  think  that  the  kingdom  of  Heav- 
en has  been  set  up  on  earth." 


246  THE   WORST    FOE. 

All  embarrassment  had  left  Pauline  before  she 
had  completed  her  essay.  As  she  sat  down,  there 
was  a  slight  ripple  of  applause,  which  grew  and 
increased  in  volume  until  the  building  shook  as 
if  with  thunder.  She  now  felt  that  the  effect  of 
her  labors  were  not  lost.  Many  who  had  known 
her  only  as  a  happy,  innocent  girl,  were  in  tears 
when  she  concluded,  for  although  she  had  made  no 
mention  of  her  own  woe,  it  was  known  to  all. 
For  some  time  the  commotion  was  so  great  that 
nothing  like  order  could  be  restored.  At  last 
the  choir  sang  a  song,  and  then  Hon.  W.  A. 
Strasmore  was  introduced  to  the  audience.  Paul- 
ine had  so  entirely  forgotten  the  lecturer,  that 
the  mention  of  his  name  startled  her  as  if  she 
had  heard  it  for  the  first  time.  As  he  advanced 
to  take  his  place  at  the  stand,  Pauline's  eyes 
were  fastened  on  him.  She  forgot  all  else  in 
that  striking  resemblance  to  the  man  whom  she 
had  loved  with  all  her  heart,  but  who  had  for 
years  slept  in  his  grave.  The  features,  the  height 
and  build  were  almost  the  same.  This  man  was 
older  and  heavier  ;  but  just  what  William  might 
have  been  at  his  age. 

Why  had  she  felt  such  unnatural  strength  to- 
night ?  She  seemed  at  peace  now,  and  to  have 
forgotten  the  heartaches  of  the  day.  It  seemed 
that  the  happiness  of  the  present  hung  on  the 
words  and  gestures  of  that  man.  His  hair  thick- 
ly sprinkled  with  gray,  and  his  clear,  ringing 


THE  WORST  FOE.  247 

voice  had  about  it  something  reassuring  and 
soothing  to  the  poor,  wearied  soul.  Was  day 
dawning  at  last? 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  TEMPERANCE  LECTURER.  — HIS  STORY. 

Oh,  weep  for  those  that  wept  at  Babel's  stream, 
Whose  shrine  is  desolate,  whose  land  a  dream ; 
Weep  for  the  harp  of  Judah's  broken  shell, 
Mourn — where  their  God  hath  dwelt  the  godless  dwelL 
Tribes  of  the  wandering  foot  and  weary  breast, 
How  shall  ye  flee  away  and  be  at  rest  ? 

— Byron. 

After  the  applause  that  followed  the  conclusion 
of  Pauline's  essay  had  subsided,  the  chairman 
announced  the  name  of  Hon.  W.  A.  Strasmore, 
and  in  a  moment  all  was  breathless  stillness. 
The  appearance  of  this  gentleman  had  already 
excited  curiosity,  and  impressed  the  discerning 
ones  of  the  audience,  with  the  idea  that  he  must 
be  a  man  with  an  experience  worth  telling,  if  not 
a  history  worth  recording.  The  well  marked 
lines  upon  his  features,  and  that  inexpressible 
light  of  the  eye,  could  not  be  without  a  meaning. 
They  were  the  chisel  marks — the  sculpturing  of 
time  and  conflict.  They  not  only  indicate 
most  skillful  workmanship,  but  they  tell  of 
the  strength  and  fineness  of  the  material. 
Just  as  an  artist  cannot  give  expression 

248 


THE   WORST    FOE.  249 

to  feature  or  character  upon  poor  marble, 
so  the  fires  of  afflictions  and  struggles  of  life 
leave  upon  the  features  of  a  phlegmatic,  aim- 
less soul  no  well  marked  lines  of  battle  nor  signs 
of  victory. 

When  Mr.  Strasmore  began  speaking,  it  was 
soon  apparent  from  the  intonation  and  modulation 
of  his  voice  that  he  was  a.  man  of  strong  emo- 
tions and  deep  convictions.  Let  us  listen  to  his 
own  words : 

BROTHERS  AND  SISTERS  OF  HUMANITY.  — My 
heart  has  been  greatly  stirred,  as  I  have  listened  to 
the  touching  truths  and  pathetic  words  of  the  lady 
who  has  preceded  me.  Yes,  woman  has  been  called 
from  her  retreat,  and  thank  God,  she  has  nobly  re- 
sponded to  the  call.  If  it  had  not  been  for  her  sav- 
ing hand,  I  would  not  be  before  you  now.  I  used 
to  ridicule  the  woman's  crusade.  I  did  not  stop  to 
think  what  prompted  the  movement.  I  was  too  much 
steeped  in  depravity  to  discover  the  unseen,  but 
mighty  influence  by  which  they  were  inspired.  But 
that  crusade,  composed  of  the  bravest  women  that 
ever  blessed  any  country,  lifted  many  a  fallen  brother 
from  the  lowest  depths,  set  him  on  his  feet,  knelt 
around  him  and  called  down  upon  him  that  same  in- 
fluence by  which  they  themselves  were  moved ;  and 
that  influence  came  upon  him  as  the  breath  of  Heav- 
en, permeated  his  being  as  a  life  current,  cooled  his 
over-heated  blood,  cleared  his  beclouded  brain,  and 
made  him  feel  that  a  new  spirit  was  within  him,  and 
hope  and  courage  took  the  place  of  despair. 


25O  THE  WORST  FOE. 

That  crusade  movement  and  its  angels,  lifted  me 
from  the  lowest  fallen  estate  to  which  mortal  man  can 
plunge — lifted  me  up  from  drunkenness  and  its  accom- 
panying vices,  to  a  position  where  I  could  see  my  past 
sin  and  folly.  They  inspired  me  with  a  desire  for  a 
better  life ;  they  gave  me  that  assuring  grasp  of  the 
hand  that  told  of  their  friendship.  Those  pure,  noble 
women  took  me,  sin-polluted  as  I  was,  and  bade  me 
God  speed. 

The  eloquent  lady  who  has  preceded  me  has  asked 
us  to  vote  for  prohibition  of  the  liquor  traffic. 
And  in  that  appeal  she  only  voiced  the  sentiment  of 
that  great  army  of  noble  women  whom  God  has  in- 
spired with  a  clearer  vision  of  the  situation,  dan- 
ger and  remedy  than  He  has  the  men  of  the  land. 
She  has  expressed  the  sentiment  of  the  myriads  of 
broken-hearted  wives  and  mothers  whom  rum  has 
crushed. 

Her  pathetic  eloquence  has  stirred  your  hearts 
more  than  I  can  expect  to  do.  The  pictures  she  has 
given  you  are  not  fancy  sketches,  but  are  drawn  from 
real  life.  My  own  experience,  and  my  own  sad  story  are 
more  vivid  and  terrible  than  any  words  can  describe. 
I  will  give  you  a  chapter  in  my  history  before  I  am 
through.  But  for  the  present  I  want  to  call  your 
attention  to  some  reasons  why  the  American  saloon 
should  be  abolished. 

First  among  the  reasons  is,  the  saloon  keeper  gives 
no  value  for  the  money  he  receives.  The  grocer 
gives  value  in  return  for  your  money.  You  cannot 
do  without  groceries.  The  dry  goods  merchant  gives 
an  equivalent  value  for  the  dollars  you  pay  him. 


THE  WORST  FOE. 

The  mechanic  gives  an  equivalent ;  the  butcher,  the 
baker,  the  jeweler,  the  shoemaker,  the  artist,  the 
teacher,  the  preacher  —  all  give  an  equivalent  for  the 
money  paid  them.  But  the  goods  he  gives  are  not  food, 
nor  clothing,  nor  medicine.  They  do  not  add  to  the 
comfort  of  the  patron  nor  help  to  brighten  his  home ; 
but  just  the  reverse.  They  make  the  purchaser  more 
miserable,  and  turn  his  home  into  a  place  of  weeping 
and  woe. 

But  if  the  saloon  keeper  does  not  give  that  which 
is  of  any  value,  he  takes  money  for  naught,  and 
therefore  robs  his  patrons.  The  distilled  liquors  are 
rank  poisons.  But  beer  contains  some  nutrition. 
Yes,  some.  How  much  ?  Leibig,  the  great  German 
chemist  has  analyzed  it.  What  does  he  say  about  the 
food  properties  ?  He  says  "A  glass  of  beer  contains  • 
only  as  much  food  as  the  flour  that  you  could  lift  on 
the  point  of  a  knife ;  and  it  would  take  nine  gallons 
of  the  best  Bavarian  beer  to  contain  as  much  food  as 
a  loaf  of  bread.  Now  who  wants  to  make  a  swill 
tub  of  his  stomach,  and  strain  nine  gallons  of  beer 
through  it  to  catch  a  loaf  of  bread ! " 

With  these  facts  before  us,  we  say  the  saloon 
keeper,  by  reducing  the  value  of  property,  and 
by  taking  money  for  that  which  is  worthless,  becomes 
a  robber  of  the  community  and  of  his  patrons,  and 
his  business  should  be  abolished. 

Second.  He  injures  his  patrons.  No  one  has  ever 
observed  the  effect  that  frequenting  saloons  has  upon 
men,  but  has  come  to  the  conclusion  that  visiting 
saloons  injures  men.  Many  a  rich  man  has  become 
a  pauper  and  a  vagabond  by  patronizing  saloons. 


252  THE  WORST  FOE. 

Many  an  honest  clerk,  or  official,has  become  dishonest 
through  the  agency  of  saloons.  Business  men,  as  a 
rule,  will  not  employ  clerks  who  habitually  drink.  A 
drinking  man  is  so  liable  to  excesses  of  all  kinds,  that 
no  wise  banker  will  admit  a  drinking  clerk  behind  his- 
counter.  Why  is  this  ?  It  is  simply  the  world's  ver- 
dict that  the  saloon  keeper  not  only  robs  his  patrons, 
of  their  money,  but  destroys  their  moral  character. 
What  the  world  has  so  generally  recognized  as  true, 
I  need  not  stop  to  prove  before  this  intelligent  audi- 
ence. There  are  too  many  homes  being  made  deso- 
late all  about  us  for  any  argument  to  equal  the 
facts  with  which  you  are  acquainted.  There  is  that 
poor,  hard-working  stone-mason,  who  had  concluded 
a  400  dollar  contract  for  a  job,  and  next  day  was  to 
sign  it ;  but  in  the  evening  he  went  into  a  saloon, 
the  saloon  keeper  made  him  drunk,  and  he  lost  the 
job,  and  his  family  lost  the  support.  Go  ask  his  wife 
if  the  saloon  is  not  a  curse  !  There  is  that  mother, 
whose  son  has  been  enticed  into  tbe  gilded  palaces- 
where  Satan,  with  smiling  face  and  jeweled  hand, 
deals  out  the  broth  of  hell ;  —  that  young  man  has 
tasted  it,  and  the  serpent  of  the  still  has  charmed 
him  as  a  bird  is  charmed  by  a  snake.  At  last,  the 
son  becomes  a  drunkard,  loses  his  place,  becomes  a 
wreck  that  nobody  will  employ,  and  the  widowed 
mother  takes  in  sewing,  or  goes  to  the  wash-tub  for 
support.  Go  ask  her  if  the  saloon  keeper  injures 
his  patrons. 

There  recently  died  a  man,  who,  a  few  years  ago, 
was  a  great  railroad  king,  employing  thousands  of 
men  and  worth  millions  of  dollars.  What  did  the  liquor 


THE  WORST  FOE.  253 

itealer  do  for  him  ?  Bankrupted  him  of  his  fortune, 
ruined  his  health,  ruined  his  fair  name,  jostled  reason 
from  its  throne,  and  ended  his  career  in  a  maniac's 
cell.  Go  ask  his  poverty-stricken  family  if  the  liquor 
dealer  is  a  blessing  or  a  curse. 

Again,  six  years  ago,  a  wealthy  farmer  with  good 
reputation,  was  elected  to  the  Legislature  of  one 
of  the  great  northern  States.  He  got  to  drinking 
with  politicians ;  became  habitually  intemperate ;  and 
intemperance  led  to  other  vices.  The  story  is  short — 
the  other  day  the  sheriff  sold  his  property;  and  the 
poor  victim  has  gone  to  hide  from  his  shame  in  one 
of  the  great  prohibition  States  of  the  West.  Who 
will  measure  the  injury  to  the  wife  and  children 
in  that  case  ?  The  other  day,  in  one  of  the  wealthy 
streets  in  the  city  where  your  speaker  lives,  you  might 
have  seen  a  poor,  miserable  man  going  from  door  to 
door,  asking  for  something  to  eat,  and  for  a  little  money. 
Who  is  the  miserable  creature  ?  He  is  what  the  liquor 
dealer  has  left  of  what  was  once  the  Hon.  A.  B.,  a 
most  popular  statesman ;  three  times  he  was  elected 
Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  an  honor 
conferred  upon  no  other  man  in  his  State.  He  was 
then  sent  to  Congress.  But  the  saloon  keeper  laid 
his  hand  upon  him,  and  now  he  eats  cold  victuals 
from  the  kitchen  doors. 

Every  drinker  is  injured.  The  man  who  drinks  little, 
is  injured  little  ;  the  man  who  drinks  much,  is  in. 
juredmuch;  all  are  injured  who  drink.  "Can a 
man  take  fire  into  his  bosom  and  not  be  burned  ?" 
Then  the  work  of  the  liquor  dealer  is  not  merely  that 
of  getting  money  without  giving  value.  It  is  worse. 
It  adds  injury  to  robbery. 


254  THE  WORST  FOE. 

.Third:  The  traffic  m  intoxicants  as  a  beverage, 
increases  the  taxes  of  the  sober  people  of  a  community. 
This  assertion  needs  no  proof.  All  the  police  and 
criminal  court  records  have  abundantlv  proven  it. 
In  one  great  city  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
inhabitants  the  police  record  shows  that  ninety-two 
per  cent,  of  the  arrests  are  occasioned  by  the  saloon 
traffic.  The  vagabonds  who  are  thus  arrested  and 
tried  at  enormous  expense,  pay  no  taxes  themselves, 
as  a  rule.  Then  the  expense  of  their  arrest  and  im- 
prisonment and  trials  must  be  paid  by  the  sober,  tax- 
paying  people.  A  man  recently  shot  his  wife  in  a 
drunken  quarrel.  The  arrest,  and  repeated  trials  in 
the  Courts,  cost  about  ten  thousand  dollars.  This 
adds  ten  thousand  to  the  taxes  of  sober  people. 
Another  man  who  was  strictly  honest  when  sober, 
but  who  always  wanted  to  steal  when  in  liquor, 
stole  a  coat,  and  the  arrest  and  trials,  dragging  through 
the  Courts  for  many  months  cost  four  thousand  dol- 
lars. Add  that  to  the  taxes.  Who  will  pay  it  ? 
Thus  it  is  with  all  the  trials,  great  and  small,  that  grow 
out  of  this  traffic.  Every  trial  adds  to  the  taxes. 
Then  the  jails,  and  lockups  and  penitentiaries  that 
must  be  built  to  take  care  of  the  liquor  criminals  add 
to  the  taxes.  Adds  how  much  to  the  taxes  ?  We 
may  not  tell  you  exactly,  but  I  can  give  you  a  few 
facts  that  will  enable  you  to  judge.  For  instance,  it 
is  an  admitted  fact  that  about  seven-eighths  of  the 
crimes  committed  are  the  result  of  the  saloon  traffic. 
Then  would  it  not  be  right  to  say  seven-eighths  of 
the  cost  of  criminal  prosecution  come  from  this  traffic  ? 
The  tax  is  thus  increased  in  that  proportion. 


THE  WORST  FOE. 

Again,  it  is  admitted  that  intemperance  greatly  in- 
creases insanity  and  idiocy;  therefore,  the  taxes 
necessary  to  build  and  support  institutions  to  take 
care  of  the  imbecile  and  the  insane,  must  increase. 
The  most  prolific  known  cause  of  pauperism  is  intem- 
perance ;  hence,  if  you  build  a  salooon,  or  grant  a 
license,  you  must  increase  the  taxes  to  meet  the  con- 
sequent increase  of  pauperism.  If  you  get  a  hundred 
dollars  for  the  license,  you  may  add  a  thousand  dollars 
to  the  taxes.  If  you  collect  a  million  dollars  for  licenses 
in  a  State,  you  may  safely  calculate  to  collect  ten  mil- 
lions more  of  taxes  to  take  care  of  the  work  of  ther 
venders. 

In  one  State  where  twelve  thousand  venders  paid 
two  millions  for  the  privilege  of  selling,  they  took  in 
over  seventy  millions  from  the  people  for  that  which 
was  naught.  What  an  untold  amount  of  crime  and 
wretchedness  was  given  in  place  of  the  fifty  million 
thus  collected  !  Are  we  abject  slaves  that  we  suffer 
such  wrongs  ?  In  a  certain  large  town  which  has  no- 
saloons,  nor  druggists  who  sell  liquors  to  be  drank, 
the  entire  cost  of  police  and  city  government  ex- 
penses is  $4,000  per  year  ;  while  in  another  town  of 
the  same  size,  with  licensed  dramshops,  the  cost  of 
police  and  city  government  is  $40,000.  Does  not  in- 
temperance, then,  add  tenfold  to  your  taxes  ?  Any  law 
that  permits  the  business,  oppresses  us  with  taxes. 

My  fourth  reason  for  urging  the  destruction  of 
saloons,  is  that  they  are  schools  of  vice.  The  worst 
classes  of  the  community  collect  in,  and  about,  the 
saloons,  and,  over  the  maddening  bowl,  they  whet  their 
passion  for  deeds  of  violence.  With  most  men,  the 
effect  of  strong  drink  is  to  put  all  moral  faculties  to 


256  THE  WORST  FOE. 

rest,  and  to  stimulate  the  baser  instincts.  It  is  then 
that  men  are  easily  led  astray.  Boys  are  thus  plunged 
into  the  vortex  of  ruin.  It  is  about  the  saloon  that 
those  women  congregate  "  who  flatter  with  their 
tongue,  but  whose  steps  take  hold  on  hell."  Solomon 
says,  ' '  Her  house  is  the  way  of  death. "  How  it  was 
in  Solomon  s  day  we  do  not  know;  but  now  she  builds 
her  house,or  arranges  her  room, hard  by  the  gin  palace, 
that  she  may  ensnare  the  youth.  In  the  saloon,  the 
assassin  whets  his  knife ;  in  the  saloon,  the  lustful 
prepares  for  rapine ;  in  the  saloon,  the  desperado  lights 
his  torch  for  arson ;  in  the  saloon,  Satan  mixes  his 
' '  double  distilled  broth  of  hell,  worse  than  witches 
ever  brewed,"  and  pours  it  out  for  the  foolish 
youth,  who  drinks  it  and  goes  out  bewitched,  calling 
evil  good  and  good  evil,  goes  into  all  the  avenues  of 
vice,  making  Pandemonium  out  of  Paradise. 

Can  these  schools  of  vice  be  longer  permitted  to 
remain  in  your  midst  ?  Are  you  not  convinced  that 
these  outposts  of  Satan  threaten  your  homes  and  all 
you  hold  dear  ? 

A.  fifth  reason  for  my  warfare,  my  hearers,  is  that 
the  saloons  are  preying  upon  our  boys.  They  are 
preying  upon  the  boys  of  the  land  more  than  a  for- 
eign army  a  hundred  thousand  strong.  It  has 
been  well  said  that  ' '  a  saloon  can  no  more  run 
without  using  up  boys,  than  can  a  saw-mill  run  with- 
out using  up  logs."  We  may  change  the  figure  and 
say,  "a  saloon  can  no  more  run  without  using  up  boys 
than  a  slaughter  house  can  run  without  using  up  hogs 
and  cattle."  There  are  a  million  drunkards  in  the 
United  States  of  America.  One  hundred  thousand 


THE  WORST  FOE. 

of  them  die  annually.  As  these  drunkards  drop  into 
the  grave,  the  saloon  lays  its  hands  on  a  hundred 
thousand  boys  to  fill  up  the  ranks.  If  a  foreign  army 
were  in  the  land  with  guns  and  bayonets  destroying 
half  so  many  lives,  and  wrecking  half  so  much  prop- 
erty as  the  two  hundred  thousand  saloon  keepers,  we 
would  fly  to  arms.  Our  church  bells  would  ring,  and 
all  our  brave  men  would  arise  and  drive  out  the  enemy, 
if  it  cost  them  their  lives.  But  here  is  this  great  enemy, 
and  we  quietly  suffer  his  ravages.  "  Be  we  men,  and 
suffer  such  dishonor  ?"  This  enemy  threatens  the 
overthrow  of  our  nation,  and  of  our  liberties.  From 
the  President  in  the  White  House,  with  his  cellar  full 
of  liquors,  to  the  road  supervisor  in  the  corner  town- 
ship, our  officials  are  becoming  corrupt  through  strong 
drink.  The  nations  that  are  gone,  went  down  through 
intemperance  and  its  attendant  curses. 

In  the  language  of  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  Rev- 
olution, I  ask  you,  citizens  of  Staunton,  to-night, 
"  Shall  we  lie  supinely  down  and  let  this  enemy  bind 
us,  hand  and  foot  ?  " 

Now  when  I  have  shown  you  that  the  liquor  vender 
takes  money,  and  gives  no  equivalent  value,  hence  im- 
poverishes his  patrons ;  and,  further,  that  he  injures  his 
patrons  in  property,  health  and  morals ;  and  that  he 
increases  the  taxes  of  the  sober  peopk,  hence  all  the  com- 
munity suffers ;  and,  again,  that  these  saloons  and  liquor 
shops  are  schools  of  vice  ;  and,  lastly,  that  they  art 
using  up  boys — when  I  have  shown  you  these  things, 
you  must  be  ready  to  say,  ' '  We  are  convinced ;  the 
liquor  shop  must  go ;  never  mind  the  rest  of  your 
reasons,  we  will  abolish  this  foul  blot  from  the  com- 

(17) 


2$8  THE  WORST  FOE. 

munity;  we  will  cut  this  cancer  from  the  body 
politic ;  we  will  pull  down  this  mill  that  grinds  to 
pieces  our  boys ;  we  will  put  an  end  to  these  schools 
of  vice."  That  is  well.  Let  your  zeal  harden  into 
actions. 

But  stay  a  moment.  I  must  claim  your  attention 
to  one  more  reason  for  prohibition.  Because  it 
is  the  reason  of  reasons  at  the  bottom  of  them 
all,  and  because  you  will  need  to  be  armed  with  it 
when  you  go  into  the  battle  that  you  are  resolving  to 
begin.  I  refer  to  God's  word.  The  Bible  is  full  of 
prohibition.  The  commandments  are  all  prohibitory. 
There  is  not  one  of  them  that  regulates,  licenses  or 
taxes  evil.  They  all  prohibit  it  in  the  most  positive 
manner.  The  Decalogue  is  the  epitome  of  all  law. 
There  is  no  law  but  its  root-principle  is  found  in  the 
Decalogue.  Hence,  Legislators  and  Congressmen 
should  take  the  Decalogue  as  their  formula.  If  this 
were  done,  a  law  would  soon  be  framed  prohibiting 
this  worst  evil  of  modern  ages.  God  speaks  in  most 
definite  terms  when  he  says,  "  Woe  unto  him  that 
giveth  his  neighbor  drink,  that  puttest  thy  bottle  to 
him,  and  makest  him  drunken  also." 

Now  here  we  see  God  has  pronounced  woe,  or 
judgment,  against  the  business  of  furnishing  drink  to 
men.  And  whom  God  condemns,  men  ought  to 
condemn.  Again  we  read,  "No  drunkard  can  inher- 
it the  kingdom  of  God. "  Then  the  vender  ruins  his 
victim  for  eternity  as  well  as  for  time,  and  we  must 
condemn  the  whole  business.  I  am  not  preaching 
a  sermon,  but  giving  you  a  fundamental  principle 
of  law.  As  a  member  of  the  law-making  body 


THE  WORST  FOE.  259 

of  your  adjoining  State,  I  agree  with  Blackstone 
that  "  statutes  that  are  not  in  unison  with  the  laws  of 
God,  are  not  laws. " 

But,  it  is  objected,  Christ  made  wine.  Yes,  the  stu- 
dents of  Oxford  told  John  B.  Gough  that  Christ  made 
wine  out  of  water.  Gough  replied,  ' '  That's  what  I 
come  to  tell  you,  that  you  may  drink  all  the  wine 
you  can  find  made  entirely  of  water."  Paul 
said,  ' '  If  meat  make  my  brother  to  offend,  I  will  eat 
no  meat  while  the  world  stands."  We  have  to  do 
many  things  for  the  sake  of  others.  "Total  abstinence 
is  a  moral  necessity  for  some,  but  it  is  a  glorious  chivalry 
for  all." 

But  the  God  of  all  good  has  declared  that  ' '  the 
way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard."  And  the  violation 
of  law  brings  a  curse,  and  a  blight.  We  can 
not  trample  the  least  of  God's  laws  under  foot 
without  bringing  ourselves  into  trouble.  And  yet, 
the  American  people  allow  two  hundred  thousand 
men  to  go  into  the  business  of  violating  God's  law  in 
"putting  the  bottle  to  their  neighbor."  They  do  this 
for  money.  This  wrong  brings  all  the  troubles 
we  have  mentioned,  and  ten  thousand  more.  The 
people  are  guilty  because  they  quietly  permit  it.  But 
much  more  are  we  guilty  as  a  nation,  in  that  our 
national  government  has  gone  into  partnership  in 
this  nefarious  business  of  using  up  boys  and  ruining 
"homes.  The  government  has  enacted  such  laws, 
that  it  becomes  the  principal  partner  in  every  whisky 
distillery  in  the  nation.  The  government  sends  its 
inspector  or  agent,  who  carries  the  keys  to  the  distil- 
lery, and  requires  ninety  cents  as  the  government's 


2(5O  THE  WORST  FOE. 

share  of  every  gallon  made.  When  whisky  sells 
at  $1.07  per  gallon,  the  other  partners  of  the 
distillery  only  have  1 7  cents  a  gallon  as  their  share, 
and  have  to  pay  all  the  expenses.  Is  it  any  wonder 
that  our  nation  is  cursed  with  crime  and  corruption, 
when  it  is  in  the  liquor  business  to  such  an  extent  as 
as  this?  But  this  nefarious  partnership  does  not  stop 
there.  The  government  goes  into  every  little  retail 
shop  in  the  nation  and  says  to  the  little  proprietor, 
"If  you  sell  liquor,  you  must  give  me  twenty-five 
dollars."  No  matter  if  the  little  proprietor  has  but 
one  keg  of  beer  and  one  gallon  of  whisky,  he  must 
give  the  government  twenty-five  dollars  for  the  privi- 
lege of  using  up  boys.  And  in  this  way  the  govern- 
ment manages  to  get  what  some  call  big  pay  from  the 
liquor  dealers.  From  these  two  sources,  from  the  manu- 
facturer and  retailer,  the  government  gets  about  one 
hundred  million  dollars  a  year  as  its  share  in  the  busi- 
ness. What  are  the  results  ?  One  hundred  thousand 
boys  are  used  up  by  the  gin-mills  every  year,  and  a 
hundred  thousand  more  fall  into  line,  and  begin  to- 
keep  step  with  this  great  march  down  into  hell. 

Now  let  us  try  our  arithmetic  a  little.  100,000  boys' 
into  100,000,000  dollars ;  let  us  see,  it  goes  just  1,000- 
times.  Then  the  government  gets  a  thousand  dollars 
a  head  for  the  boys  and  men  that  the  gin-murder- 
mills  use  up.  Is  that  a  good  sale  or  not  ?  What  do 
you  say  ?  Would  a  thousand  dollars  be  a  good  price 
for  your  boy  that  you  love  ?  Shall  we  count  out  the 
ready  money,  and  pass  your  boy  over  to  the  gin-shop 
to  be  finished  off  for  the  pit  of  everlasting  destruction  ? 
Do  you  object  to  this,  and  hold  up  your  hands  in* 


THE  WORST  FOE.  26 1 

horror  ?  Well,  if  you  do  not  want  your  boy  sold  thus, 
why  should  you  want  mine  sold,  or  my  neighbor's. 
Some  want  a  tax  or  license  imposed,  of  two  or  five 
hundred  dollars.  Do  you  mean  by  that,  that  for  that 
sum  you  are  willing  that  the  liquor  dealer  should  sell 
it  freely  to  your  son?  You  say,  "No,  not  my  boy." 
Ah,  it's  your  neighbor's  boy,  then,  that  is  to  be  ruined, 
while  you  reap  the  paltry  benefit  of  a  few  farthings 
of  remitted  tax. 

Now,  if  you  are  opposed  to  this  plan  of  the  gov- 
ernment selling  boys  to  the  drinkshops  at  a  thousand 
•dollars  each,  how  is  it  that  you  can  vote  for  the  offi- 
cers that  do  this  thing  ?  Officers  are  the  agents  of 
the  voters ;  and  the  law  says  what  a  man  does  by  his 
agents  he  does  himself.  What  he  does  by  his  agents, 
he  is  personally  responsible  for.  Then  if  your  vote 
goes  for  men  who  do  this  business,  are  you  not  as 
guilty  as  they  ?  If  you  are  a  partner  in  a  criminal 
business,  are  you  not  a  criminal  ?  And  if  you  appoint 
an  agent  to  transact  this  criminal  business  for  you, 
are  you  not  equally  guilty  ?  Men  are  awaking  to 
this  astounding  fact  by  thousands  ;  and  many  are 
conscience-smitten  because  they  have  unwittingly 
participated  in  the  sin  so  long.  They  are  beginning  to 
utter  their  protest  by  voice  and  ballot ;  and  a  storm  of 
wrath  is  brewing  for  this  business  and  all  its  defenders. 

But,  the  objector  tells  us,  you  can  never  prohibit 
the  drink  shops ;  they  have  always  been  and  always 
will  be.  He  who  says  this  is  a  traitor  to  mankind. 
What !  Do  you  tell  us  that  a  foreign  foe  can  come 
into  this  land  and  murder  a  hundred  thousand  a  year, 
and  we  cannot  prevent  it  ?  In  this  land  whose  liber- 


262  THE  WORST  FOE. 

ties  our  fathers  bought  with  blood,  shall  their  chil- 
dren submit  to  a  worse  tyrant  than  King  George  ?  If 
the  churches  alone  would  unite,  and  say  in  the  name 
of  God, the  drink  mills  must  be  shut  down,  they  would 
soon  be  destroyed  by  law,  or  by  lightning,  or  earth- 
quake, or  by  one  of  the  infinite  varieties  of  God's 
artillery.  Who  says  it  cannot  be  done  ?  This  people 
can  do  anything  in  the  line  of  possibilities.  When 
Sumter  was  fired  upon,  and  the  Southern  States 
rebelled,  he  was  counted  a  traitor  who  said  the 
rebellion  could  not  be  crushed.  So,  any  man  who 
says  this  foe  cannot  be  conquered,  is  a  coward, 
or  disloyal  to  humanity's  highest  good.  Our  politi- 
cians can  not  be  trusted  to  lead  this  battle  ;  for,  like 
Eli's  sons,  they  have  corrupted  themselves,  and  taken 
bribes,  and  can  only  lead  us  to  confusion  and  defeat, 
as  Hophni  and  Phineas  did  Israel.  We  must  choose 
for  our  leaders  those  known  to  be  men  of  clean 
hands  and  brave  hearts. 

But  another  objector  says,  "You  cannot  abolish 
the  saloons  now  ;  you  must  wait  God's  time  and  ed- 
ucate public  sentiment."  Now,  as  to  educating  public 
sentiment,  that  is  ripening  very  fast.  The  sickle  is 
being  prepared,  and  the  harvest  cometh  to-morrow. 
Four  hundred  thousand  members  of  temperance  or- 
ders, and  a  thousand  speakers  and  writers  are  pre- 
paring the  people  for  battle,  and  the  great  Catholic 
Church  is  organizing  total  abstinence  bands,  and  bish- 
ops and  priests  are  signing  the  pledge.  You  might  as 
well  begin  to  pick  lint  to  dress  the  wounded,  for  the 
battle  is  imminent ;  for  there  is  nothing  like  action  to 
educate  sentiment  Words  are  wind ;  actions  are  the 


THE  WORST  FOE.  263 

solid  facts  that  tunnel  mountains,  and  bridge  rivers, 
and  sweep  away  every  barrier.  When  King  Heze- 
kiah  came  to  the  throne  of  Israel,  he  found  the  peo- 
ple full  of  idolatry,  worshipping  Baal.  Did  he  spend 
a  lifetime  educating  public  sentiment  in  favor  of  pro- 
hibiting idolatry  ?  No,  he  went  to  work  and  broke 
in  pieces  the  image  of  Baal,  destroyed  the  high 
places,  cut  down  the  groves,  and  broke  in  pieces  the 
brazen  serpent;  and  thus,  by  decided  action,  he 
made  more  sentiment  for  the  true  God  in  one  day. 
than  years  of  mere  talk  would  have  done.  Nothing 
educates  like  action.  Withdraw  your  votes  from  the 
bloody  men  who  have  propped  up  this  Moloch  in 
our  land,  and  you  will  teach  them  more  temperance 
sentiment  in  the  morning  paper  that  chronicles  your 
vote  against  them,  than  they  have  learned  in  a  gen- 
eration. The  day  is  past  for  educating  sentiment, 
the  battle  is  too  near,  this  is  the  time  to  organize  for 
action. 

And  as  for  the  other  part  of  the  objection,  viz., 
that  we  must  wait  God's  time,  that  is  little  short 
of  blasphemy.  It  implies  that  God  does  not  want 
you  to  stop  this  work  of  slaughter  this  year,  till  a 
hundred  thousand  souls  go  down  into  hell.  Do  you 
suppose  God  is  so  well  pleased  with  this  drunkard- 
making  business,  that  He  wants  it  to  go  on  a  few 
years  longer  ?  That  is  an  insult  to  the  beneficent 
God  of  Heaven. 

God's  time  is  now.  It  is  always  God's  time  for 
men  to  put  away  evil.  It  is  never  too  soon  to  do 
right. 

Thus  the  speaker  waxed  eloquent  and  raised 


264  THE  WORST  FOE. 

the  enthusiasm  of  his  audience  to  the  highest 
pitch,  as  with  almost  matchless  skill  he  answered 
one  objection  after  another  to  the  cause  of  pro- 
hibition, until  all,  except  the  most  obstinate  of 
his  audience,  were  thoroughly  convinced  that  the 
speaker  was  right.  Many  felt  that  they  had 
never  fully  seen  the  subject  in  its  true  light 
before.  When  the  enthusiasm  of  the  audience 
had  reached  the  highest  point,  the  speaker 
began  to  relate  his  story,  which  he  had  prom- 
ised to  give. 

My  story  is  a  sad  one,  and  it  pains  me  to  tell  it; 
and  I  only  do  so  when  I  think  it  may  be  use- 
ful to  some  one.  I  know  the  sadness  that  often 
lies  with  crushing  weight  upon  the  heart  of  the 
drinker  in  his  sober  moments.  I  know  the  moments 
of  despair;  and  I  can  sympathize  with  him.  But 
there  is  help,  and  there  is  refuge.  For  the  sake  of 
the  poor  wife  who  watches  for  you  in  the  darkness, 
will  you  not  seek  that  refuge  ?  Do  not  do  as  I  did  ; 
till  it  is  too  late  to  plead  for  the  forgiveness  of  her 
who  trusted  her  life  and  happiness  in  your  keeping. 
Ah,  how  the  remorse  eats  at  my  heart !  All  that  I 
can  do  cannot  atone  for  the  dark,  bad  past ;  because 
I  cannot  lay  the  trophies  of  the  honorable  life  I  am 
now  living  at  her  feet.  She  has  crossed  the  dark 
river,  and  I  am  left  on  this  side.  I  would  gladly 
blot  out  the  past,  but  I  cannot.  But  this  remorse 
drives  me  into  a  keener  hatred  of  the  enemy  that 
blasted  my  life  and  destroyed  my  home.  Hate  it  ? 
hate  is  too  feeble  a  word.  My  blood,  bones  and 


THE  WORST  FOE.  265 

mind — body,  soul  and  spirit — every  atom  of  my  being 
revolts  at  its  tyranny.  I  would  not  cross  the  thresh- 
old of  a  saloon  to  save  my  right  hand. 

Mine  is  the  old  story  of  struggling  with  temptation, 
and  supping  with  sin,  until  sin  claimed  me  for  his 
prey. 

I  cannot  remember  when  I  comm  enced  wine-bib- 
bing. My  parents  came  to  this  country,  when  I  was 
but  a  child.  My  father  died  when  I  was  still  quite 
young,  and  when  I  was  just  reaching  manhood,  my 
mother  also  died.  This  loss  was  heavy.  Well  do  I 
remember,  the  resolves  I  made  to  honor  her  memory, 
as  I  visited  her  resting  place  a  week  after  her  burial. 
Little  then  did  I  ever  suppose  that  intemperance 
would  cause  me  to  forget  my  vows.  If  some  one 
then  had  said  to  me,  "You  will  one  day  lie  in  the 
ditch  and  suffer  delirium  tremens,"  I  should  have 
laughed  him  to  scorn.  I  knew  that  I  liked  wine  and 
even  something  stronger;  but  I  did  not  see  the  results 
of  such  an  appetite.  I  thought,  as  every  drinking 
man  does, that  "I  can  drink  or  let  it  alone  ;"  but  be  a 
drunkard,  I  never  shall. 

If  the  first  glass  would  give  a  man  the  delirium  tre- 
mens, alcohol  would  be  left  on  the  shelf  to  preserve 
.snakes  in.  But  as  it  is,  our  only  safety  is  to  annihil- 
ate it.  Better  have  no  pickled  snakes,  than  to  man- 
ufacture a  thing  so  uncontrollable  as  alcohol  in  its  va- 
rious forms. 

Not  long  after  my  mother's  death,  I  procured  a 
position  as  book-keeper,  with  a  good  salary.  I  soon 
Centered  young  society,  and  there  met  the  maid  who  be- 
came my  wife.  She  was  a  girl  of  high  moral  and  Chris- 


266  THE  WORST  FOE. 

tian  virtues ;  and  she  was  not  slow  to  see  that  I  was 
in  danger  of  going  to  excess,  and  she  often  rebuked 
me  for  my  social  drinking.  I  said  all  young  men  did 
the  same.  But  as  she  plead  more  earnestly,!  laughed 
at  her  fears.  Drinkers  always  ridicule  such  admoni- 
tion. I  assured  her,  that  I  would  always  lead  a  sober 
life;  but  I  did  not  say,  "I  will  never  taste,  touch  nor 
handle  it  again."  I  said,  "When  I  sow  a  few  more 
wild  oats,  I  will  settle  down  and  be  a  matter-of-fact 
sort  of  a  man."  Ah,  that  wild  oats  business  has  ruined 
many  a  man.  It  is  one  of  Satan's  favorite  leading- 
strings.  Young  man,  do  not  forget  that,  "as  you 
sow,  so  shall  ye  reap." 

In  time,  this  fair  Annie  Templeton  and  I  were 
married.  When  I  look  back  now  and  think  of  the 
years  of  pure  devotion  of  that  true  woman,  it  makes 
me  more  determined  to  be  henceforth  a  true  man, 
and  to  become  worthy  of  her  association  in  the  great 
future. 

Our  home  was  a  happy  one,  just  as  happy  as  a 
neat,  energetic,  loving  wife  could  make  it.  I  was 
always  met  with  a  smile.  She  was  the  best  of  com- 
pany ;  she  could  teach  me  wisdom  every  hour  in  the 
day.  Then  why  did  I  not  become  wise?  Did  a  de- 
mon possess  me  ?  Yes,  the  demon  of  strong  drink 
was  just  asserting  its  claim  upon  me.  Even  moderate 
drinking  blunts  a  man's  moral  perceptions,  so  that 
he  is  not  so  capable  of  appreciating  moral  principles. 
This  point  is  not  understood  by  drinkers,  but  has 
been  scientifically  proved  by  medical  men.  The 
American  Journal  of  Inebriety  has  spent  eight  years 
in  giving  proofs  of  this ;  and  Dr.  T.  L.  Wright,  in 


THE    WORST    FOE.  267* 

his  recent  work  entitled  '  Inebriism,"  proves  beyond 
dispute,  that  alcohol  so  affects  the  brain  as  to  make 
a  man  incapable  of  correct  moral  action.  And  I  kept 
my  brain  so  stupified  with  alcohol  that  I  was  incap- 
able of  taking  in  the  beautiful  truths  my  wife  tried  to 
teach  me.  They  only  flitted  before  me  as  visions  to 
be  forgotten  with  the  sound,  instead  of  appropriated 
to  become  a  part  of  my  being.  So  I  soon  tired  of 
my  home,  tired  of  everything,  and  felt  hampered 
with  the  possession  of  a  wife  and  child.  I  was  one- 
of  the  b'hoys,  and  wanted  to  spend  my  spare  time 
with  the  b'hoys.  "The  more  wild  oats  I  sowed,  the 
more  I  wanted  to  sow ;  which,  I  believe,  is  generally 
the  case. 

Finally  the  death  of  my  sweet  baby  girl  seemed  to- 
awaken  me  for  a  time  to  a  sense  of  my  duty  and  re- 
sponsibility. I  struggled  bravely,  but  temptations 
surrounded  me,  and  I  was  fighting  the  battle  alone. 
I  needed  the  help  of  a  strong  brother,  friend,  but 
none  came  to  my  relief.  Why  should  they  ?  I  had 
never  sought  the  acquaintance  of  any  whose  friend- 
ship was  worth  a  straw.  When  trying  to  reform  I 
did  not  tell  my  dear  wife  even,  that  I  was  making, 
such  an  effort.  Oh,  how  she  would  have  tried  to- 
strengthen  all  my  good  purposes,  and  how  she  would, 
have  implored  God's  help  besides.  I  did  not  have 
the  strength  to  resist  the  temptation.  Every  time  I 
passed  that  saloon  which  stood  between  my  home 
and  place  of  business,  I  felt  impelled  to  go  in  there. 
Ah,  I  was  then  a  groveling  slave,  but  did  not  know 
it.  When  I  again  yielded  to  the  temptation  after  my 
brief  reformation,  I  went  the  road  to  ruin  at  a  rapid 


268  THE  WORST  FOE. 

speed.  My  employers  were  patient  with  me,  but 
finally  my  conduct  compelled  them  to  discharge  me. 
I  became  a  miserable  sot.  In  those  dark  days  my 
wife  was  the  only  friend  I  had.  She  never  forsook 
me.  But  I  often  found  her  in  tears,  which  irritated 
me.  I  loathed  myself,  and  after  every  cent  of  my 
money  was  spent,  one  night  at  gambling  I  got  money 
enough  to  take  me  away  from  all  that  I  had  ever 
known.  For  weeks  I  lodged  in  a  garret  in  New 
York  City,  suffering  more  than  tongue  can  tell.  Dur- 
ing those  weeks  the  tremens  came  and  went,  and  I 
fought  the  snakes  and  devils  alone.  I  was  thus  reap- 
ing the  harvest  from  my  wild  oats.  Did  I  not  re- 
pent and  long  to  return  to  my  heart-broken  wife,  and 
resolve  to  do  so  as  soon  as  I  could  travel  ?  Yes,  the 
little  good  left  in  my  heart  suggested  it,  but  Satan 
was  ready  with  suggestions ;  I  must  not  return  pen^ 
niless.  And  I  listened  to  him  that  had  ruled  me  so 
long.  I  would  get  a  handsome  sum  and  then  I 
would  return  to  her  and  we  would  be  happy  again. 
I  sought  work,  but  I  could  not  keep  myself  at  it. 

Finally  I  abandoned  it  all,  and  became  a  profes- 
sional saloon-bird — a  lounger  about  places  of  strong 
drink,  waiting  for  some  one  to  treat  me,  and  subsist- 
ing off  of  free  lunches.  How  detestable  I  appear 
when  I  think  of  it.  I  remained  in  New  York  over 
two  years,  passing  through  almost  every  variety  of 
experience.  Finally  I  and  one  of  my  associates 
started  out.  We  did  not  know  where  we  should 
go.  We  went  here  and  there  till  we  had  traveled 
toward  all  points  of  the  compass.  One  December 
found  us  in  a  village  in  the  State  of  Ohio.  We 


THE   WORST    FOE.  269. 

had  not  been  there  long  till  we  heard  of  the 
Woman's  Crusade  movement.  How  we  ridiculed 
it.  One  evening  a  crowd  was  in  the  saloor. 
We  had  been  playing  cards,  telling  stories,  and  sing- 
ing songs  between  drinks,  when  one  proposed  a 
change,  and  dropping  on  his  knees  began  imitating 
the  women  in  front  of  the  saloons,  uttering  a  mock 
prayer.  All  but  myself  cheered  him.  I  thought  that: 
was  going  too  far.  At  that  moment  a  choir  began 
singing  right  in  front  of  the  door,  "  Rescue  the  Per- 
ishing." I  arose  and  buttoned  my  coat  to  go  out. 
When  the  saloon-keeper  saw  we  were  about  to  leave, 
he  said,  "  Boys,  don't  go  out.  We  can  stand  it  if 
they  can."  But  saying  I  was  fond  of  music,  I  walked 
out,  and  the  others  followed  me.  The  song  strangely 
thrilled  me.  A  prayer  was  soon  offered,  then  a  short 
appeal  made,  and  every  word  went  right  to  my  heart. 
Did  they  know  anything  about  me,  I  wondered. 
They  seemed  to  speak  as  though  they  understood  my 
situation.  A  general  invitation  was  announced, 
kindly  inviting  us  to  a  lecture  at  the  hall.  I  was 
leaning  against  a  lamp-post,  but  my  hat  was  pulled 
down,  and  all  my  past  life  was  coming  up  before  me. 
There  was  one  alto  voice  near  me  that  called  all  the 
past  forcibly  to  mind.  It  seemed  so  like  my  dear 
Annie's  voice.  That  singer  stepped  around  so  I  could 
see  her  face,  and  it  looked  like  Annie's.  She  came 
near  and  laid  her  hand  upon  my  arm. and  said, "Sure- 
ly the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard ;  for  your  own 
happiness  reverse  your  life. "  She  was  gone  almost 
before  her  words  were  finished.  The  whole  choir 
was  gone.  They  had  left  quietly  as  they  came.  We 


2/O  THE  WORST  FOE. 

all  followed.  We  heard  the  lecture  and  all  signed 
the  pledge  that  night.  So  far  as  I  know,  I  am  the 
only  one  that  has  not  broken  it.  And  heaven  only 
knows  what  a  struggle  it  has  cost  me  to  keep  it. 

As  soon  as  victorious  in  the  first  struggle,  I  sought 
my  wife  and  home.  I  found  neither.  It  is  too  pain- 
ful to  dwell  upon.  I  traced  her  until  she  had  started 
in  search  of  me,  then  I  lost  trace  of  her  entirely.  My 
poor  wife,  with  our  infant  son,  had  tried  to  find  me 
in  my  wanderings.  I  advertised  in  vain.  What  suf- 
fering she  may  have  endured  in  her  efforts  to  find 
me,  I  never  knew.  Death  may  have  come  to 
her  relief.  When  means  and  health  failed,  and 
I  could  search  no  longer,  I  settled  down  almost 
mad  with  remorse  ;  but  while  I  despised  myself,  and 
shall  carry  this  remorse  to  the  grave,  yet  I  was  most 
thoroughly  mad  at  alcohol  and  the  whole  liquor  traf- 
fic ;  and  as  soon  as  I  was  able  to  work,  I  applied 
myself  with  double  dilligence,  and  prayed  for  that 
help  the  women  had  taught  me  to  trust  in  ;  and  God 
not  only  blessed  me  with  strength  to  stand,  but  blessed 
my  labor,  blessed  me  in  business,  and  has  opened 
avenues  before  me  for  doing  good  of  which  I  never 
knew  before.  But  as  I  began  securing  signers  for  the 
temperance  pledge,  and  in  various  ways  working  for 
the  temperance  cause,  I  soon  found  that  little  could 
be  done  to  save  men  while  the  dramshops  were  so 
plentiful.  If  I  got  ten  men  in  one  week  to  sign  the 
pledge,  before  another  week  would  pass,nine  of  them 
would  return  to  their  cups.  I  began  advocating,  in 
all  the  temperance  meetings,  that  stringent  laws  should 
be  enforced.  So  we  got  a  high  license  law,  with  a 


THE  WORST  FOE.  2/1 

variety  of  sections  in  it  for  regulating  the  sale  of 
liquor.  But  the  high  licensed  liquor  made  my  pledg- 
ed men  just  as  drunk  as  the  unlicensed  liquor  did, 
and  they  obtained  the  drinks  just  as  easily  as  before, 
although  the  law  said  that  liquor  should  not  be  sold 
to  persons  in  the  habit  of  getting  drunk.  The  law 
also  made  it  unlawful  to  sell  to  boys  under  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  but  saloon-keepers  disregarded  the  law, 
and  went  on  using  up  boys  as  before.  They  even 
had  better  success  than  before,  for  drink  was  now  sold 
only  by  men  with  sufficient  capital  to  keep  finer 
places,  and  they  bated  their  hooks  for  boys  more  suc- 
cessfully than  before.  The  temperance  people  could 
not  stay  in  the  saloons  to  see  if  the  law  was  being 
violated,  and  the  saloon-keepers  violated  every 
clause  of  it  every  day.  I  doubt  whether  there 
is  a  saloon  in  the  United  States  that  does  not 
sell  to  boys  and  drunkards  all  the  time,  unless  while 
they  are  watched.  I  studied  the  laws  we  had  and 
the  reason  they  were  failures,  and  I  came  to  the  con- 
clusion in  a  few  years,  that  when  a  man  is  mean 
enough  to  sell  liquor,  the  only  law  that  will  keep  him 
from  selling  it  contrary  to  law,  is  a  law  that  will  lock 
up  his  doors  and  pour  his  liquors  into  the  street,  as 
they  do  down  in  Maine.  Any  law  that  leaves  the 
saloon-keeper  with  his  shop  open,  and  him  behind  the 
counter,  leaves  him  in  a  position  to  violate  all  regula- 
tions. Suppose  your  law  says  he  shall  not  sell  to 
drunkards  and  minors ;  he  will  sell  to  them  continu- 
ally. Suppose  the  law  says  only  wine,  beer  and  ale 
shall  be  sold.  He  will  pour  out  whatever  the  custo- 
mer likes,  in  spite  of  law  and  temperance  sentiment 


2/2  THE  WORST  FOE. 

to  the  contrary.  And  his  customers,  says  Judge 
Dickey,  will  perjure  themselves  rather  than  convict 
him.  Hence  the  only  law  that  can  be  well  executed 
is  a  prohibitory  law.  When  I  first  made  that  asser- 
tion, I  astonished  people.  But  I  convinced  the  tem- 
perance people  of  it  so  rapidly  that  I  was  soon  sent 
to  the  legislature,  and,  if  God  spares  my  life,  I  expect 
to  continue  the  agitation  till  we  shall  carry  a  law  as 
strong  as  that  of  Maine.  The  law  that  says  no  intox- 
icating drinks  shall  be  sold,  is  a  very  simple  affair  in 
the  matter  of  execution.  If  the  officer  finds  a  man 
with  liquor,  he  simply  takes  him  to  the  lock-up,  and 
takes  his  liquor  to  the  court  for  testimony.  And  that 
settles  his  guilt  at  once.  But  all  regulatory  laws  are 
next  to  impossible  to  enforce.  The  next  time  any  one 
says  to  you  that  ' '  You  could  not  enforce  a  prohibi- 
tory law  if  you  had  it,"  tell  him  it  is  the  only  tem- 
perance law  that  can  be  enforced  successfully.  You 
cannot  easily  prove  what  a  liquor  dealer  sells  to  a 
certain  customer,  nor  can  you  watch  him  to  see  that 
he  only  sells  to  proper  persons.  But  prohibition  re- 
moves that  difficulty. 

Now  my  story  is  told  and  my  lecture  is  done.  If 
I  could  be  the  means  of  closing  these  man-traps  that 
have  made  my  life  so  sad,  so  they  should  never  blast 
another  home  as  they  have  mine,  I  should  feel  that 
I  had  partly  atoned  for  the  sad  past.  Will  you  help 
me  in  this  effort  ?  Was  Florence  Nightingale  a  bene- 
factor because  she  bound  up  the  wounds  of  the  fal- 
len ?  How  much  more  will  he  be  a  benefactor  who 
prevents  wounds  being  made.  Will  you  be  that  ben- 
efactor, by  helping  to  shut  down  these  flood-gates  of 


THE  WORST  FOE.  273 

destruction  ?  If  you  stand  by  and  see  your  neighbor 
murdered  when  you  can  prevent  it,  the  law  makes 
you  guilty  of  his  blood.  Now,  the  sober  people  can 
stop  this  work  of  ruin.  Will  you  do  it  ?  If  you  do 
not  make  the  effort  by  your  ballot,  by  your  influ- 
ence, by  your  money,  by  your  prayers,  who  will 
plead  your  cause  in  the  day  of  judgment,  when  the 
broken-hearted  widows  rise  up  and  say,  you  did  not 
save  my  husband  when  it  was  in  your  power  ?  Who 
will  plead  for  you  then  ?  What  will  hinder  the  sen- 
tence, "In  as  much  as  ye  did  it  not  unto  these  *  * 
ye  did  it  not  to  me  "  ?  I  roll  the  responsibility  of 
the  blood  of  the  slain  upon  you  if  you  do  not  do 
what  you  can.  May  God  bless  you.  Good  night. 


(18) 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

f 

HERE    AND   THERE. 

To  know  not  earth  nor  Heaven, 

Nor  any  crimson  star, 

Can  measure  losses  such 

As  ours  unmeasured  are. 

To  know  we  would  not  quench 

With  any  paler  wine, 

The  everlasting  thirst 

That  must  be  thine  and  mine. 

— Anon. 

LL  through  that  lecture  Pauline  sat  motion- 
less  as  if  entranced.  The  song  which  con- 
cluded the  exercises  of  the  evening  failed  to  en- 
tirely rouse  her  from  her  reverie.  She  heard 
some  one  announce  that  Mr.  Strasmore  would 
lecture  on  the  following  evening.  From  the 
time  he  concluded  until  this  announcement  was 
made,  she  had  been  sitting  like  one  in  a  dream. 
She  started  at  the  announcement  and  her 
heart  beat  violently.  She  would  see  him,  would 
tell  him  of  that  son  of  whom  he  knew  nothing. 
She  would  tell  him  of  his  wife  and  give  him  the 
time  stained  letter  traced  by  her  hands.  Her 
thoughts  were  away  back  in  the  beautiful  past 
and  she  was  only  awakened  to  present  realities 

274 


THE   WORST   FOE.  2/5 

by  Mr.  Strasmore  being  presented  to  her.  She 
arose  and  bowed  mechanically  and  stood  in  a 
somewhat  embarrassing  position,  while  he  spoke 
a  few  words  of  encouragement  to  herself  and  the 
President  of  the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance 
Union,  and  was  gone. 

Mark  Day  .accompanied  Pauline  to  her  home, 
and  as  they  separated,  she  said:  "Mark,  come 
early  to-morrow,  for  I  want  you  to  do  me  a 
favor."  Mark  said  he  would,  and  as  he  went  to 
his  home  he  said  : 

"Now,  she's  got  something  to  tell  that  Stras- 
more. Lawyer  Strasmore  was  a  gentleman  and 
so  was  this  strange  father  of  his  till  he  took 
to  drink.  How  I  pitied  him  when  he  told  his 
story.  It's  not  often  a  strong  man  shows  such 
emotions.  His  story  is  only  one  more  proof 
that  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard.  It  is  a 
lesson  to  everybody  and  though  but  little  that's 
good  can  ever  be  expected  of  such  a  wild  harum 
scarum  chap  like  me,  I  am  determined  that 
never  under  any  circumstances  shall  a  drop  of 
liquor  cross  my  lips.  Wasn't  Pauline's  essay  a 
scorcher  ?  I  wish  the  papers  would  all  print  it. 
She  is  not  afraid  to  call  the  saloon-keepers  by 
their  right  name.  Oh !  I  glory  in  her  spunk.  If 
it  hadn't  a  been  for  Miss  Denesmore,  I  would 
have  been  a  ruined  drunkard  by  this  time.  A 
woman  saved  me  and  a  woman  first  tempted 
Guy.  It's  strange  ;  one  woman  overthrew  all 


2/6  THE   WORST   FOE. 

parents'  teachings,  and  the  true  principles  of  a 
man's  life,  and  changed  his  whole  existence. 
Thank  goodness,  there  is  not  another  Maria  in 
Staunton.  Such  women  are  scarce.  If  Guy  had 
not  been  so  fast,  he  never  would  have  taken  that 
fatal  step.  He  didn't  dream  he  was  entering 
such  a  hornet's  nest ;  or  that  he  would  drag  his 
family  down  to  ruin  with  him.  But  he  is  lost — 
poor  fellow.  I  don't  think  the  good  women  can 
save  him  as  they  did  Strasmore.  I  have  very 
little  sympathy  for  Maria,  but  her  child  is  inno- 
cent and  I'm  sorry  for  it.  The  Lord  only  knows 
what  will  become  of  all  of  them.  They  are  in 
Ernest's  power,  and  he  will  prove  a  tyrant." 

When  Pauline  reached  home,  she  found  her 
mother  waiting  for  her.  She  had  been  with  Guy 
all  the  evening  and  reported  a  favorable  change 
in  his  condition.  He  was  rational,  and  had 
talked  with  the  same  freedom  he  used  to  show 
years  ago,  telling  his  mother  of  his  temptations 
and  trials,  and  making  firm  resolves  to  do  better. 
The  poor  boy  seemed  to  get  relief  in  unburden- 
ing his  heart  to  his  mother.  She  had  at  last 
persuaded  him  to  go  to  sleep  ;  and  when  slumber 
closed  his  eyes  she  sat  for  a  long  time  at  his 
side  as  she  had  done  in  his  infancy,  longing  to 
take  him  in  her  arms  and  shield  him  from  the 
many  cares,  woes  and  temptations  by  which  he 
was  surrounded. 

Pauline  told  her  mother  what  she  had  learned 


THE   WORST    FOE.  2/7 

during  the  evening ;  and  they  sat  until  a  late  hour 
talking  of  the  dead,  whose  life  had  been  so  full  of 
promise,  and  of  the  last  living  one  whose  life  had 
been  equally  as  full  of  promise. 

Next  morning  Mark  called  at  Mrs.  Denesmore's 
as  requested,  and  Pauline  gave  him  a  note  for  Mr. 
Strasmore,  saying:  "If  he  is  at  leisure,  he  can 
accompany  you  on  your  way  home,  this  far, " 

Mark  bowed  and  hurried  away  on  his  errand. 
In  their  adversity  the  Denesmores  were  unable  to 
keep  servants,  save  one  or  two  faithful  domestics 
who  clung  to  them  at  the  risk  of  starvation  ;  and 
Mark  had  performed  many  little  acts  of  kindness 
for  Miss  Pauline. 

Mr.  Strasmore  was  in  the  reading  room  of  his 
hotel,  when  Mark  found  him,  glancing  over  the 
morning  paper.  Mark  handed  him  the  note 
from  Pauline,  which  was  simply  an  invitation  to 
call  at  his  earliest  convenience,  as  she  had  inform- 
ation of  importance  for  him. 

"If  you  are  ready  to  go  now,  I  will  show  you 
the  way,"  said  Mark.  "It  is  not  far  and  we  can 
walk  very  well."  Mr.  Strasmore,  considerably 
puzzled,  announced  his  readiness  to  accompany 
the  boy.  Pauline  could  understand  something 
of  his  anxiety,  and  entered  into  the  subject  as 
soon  as  they  were  seated  in  her  plain,  but  neat 
sitting  room. 

"Have  you  any  proof  that  your  wife  and  child 
are  dead  ?  "  she  asked. 


2/8  THE    WORST    FOE. 

"Only  that  I  failed  to  find  them,"  he  answer- 
ed, while  his  excitement  became  more  and  more 
apparent.  "When  I  lay  prostrated  from  an  ill- 
ness produced  by  dissipation,  a  friend  who  aided 
me  all  he  could,  learned  that  a  woman  and  child 
had  arrived  on  a  night  train  at  the  town  and  put 
up  at  a  hotel.  She  was  suddenly  taken  ill  and 
conveyed  to  a  charity  hospital,  where  she  died 
without  revealing  her  name  or  regaining  her 
reason.  She  had  not  even  registered  at  the 
hotel,  and  was,  of  course,  unknown.  The  child 
died  soon  after  the  mother ;  and  nothing  was 
known  of  them  except  that  they  were  very  desti- 
tute. It  was  not  my  wife,  I  know  now ;  can 
you  tell  me  anything  of  her  and  our  child  ?  " 

There  was  such  an  expression  of  eagerness  in 
his  face  that  Pauline  felt  herself  unable  to  tell 
the  sad  story ;  so  she  placed  in  his  hand  the  old 
time-stained  letter  William  had  given  her,  which 
made  the  identity  indisputable.  The  color  left 
his  face  as  he  read.  He  frequently  paused  to 
brush  away  the  blinding  tears,  while  he  trembled 
with  uncontrollable  emotion.  When  he  had  resd 
the  letter  through,  he  laid  it  aside,  and  in  a  voice 
husky  with  emotion  asked  : 

"How  came  you  by  this  ?     Is  my  son  alive  ?" 

"Your  son  gave  me  that  letter  on  the  day  I 
promised  to  be  his  wife.  But  he  has  been  dead 
for  years.  He  was  a  grand,  noble  man,  a  son  of 


THE    WORST    FOE.  279 

whom  any  one  might  be  proud,  but  he  fell  by 
the  hand  of  an  unknown  assassin  from  an.  un- 
known cause." 

"My  son  cared  for  by  strangers  grew  to  be  a 
man,  while  I  spent  my  time  in  dissipation  Just 
Heaven,  what  a  retribution, "  groaned  the  agoniz- 
ed father,  burying  his  face  in  his  hands. 

Pauline  tried  to  offer  comfort,  but  she  knew 
how  vain  her  efforts  were.  The  only  consola- 
tion there  was  to  the  unfortunate  father,  was 
in  hearing  her  talk  of  that  son  of  whom  he  had 
known  nothing.  As  soon  as  his  engagements 
in  Staunton  would  permit,  he  went  to  the  home 
of  Mr.  Johns,  the  man  who  knew  more  of  his 
boy  than  any  other  man.  He  listened  as  if  he 
would  never  tire  of  hearing  these  good  people 
talk  of  his  child.  While  in  the  neighborhood 
he  made  many  a  pilgrimage  to  the  graveyard 
where  his  wife  and  child  whom  he  had  so  great- 
ly wronged,  slept.  King  alcohol  had  wrought  all 
this  ruin,  and  there  by  the  graves  of  those 
whom  he  dearly  loved,  but  had  wronged  past 
all  hope  of  human  redemption,  he  vowed  eternal 
enmity  to  rum.  Henceforth  he  would  conse- 
crate his  life  to  combating  The  Worst  Foe.  All 
the  reward  he  asked  of  earthly  friends,  was  that 
when  his  pilgrimage  was  over,  he  might  be 
laid  away  to  rest  by  the  side  of  his  wife  and 
child. 

Leaving  the  spot  which  now  had  grown  sacred 


28O  THE   WORST   FOE. 

to  him,  he  paused  as  he  entered  the  woods  to 
look  back  upon  it,  upon  the  beautiful  monument 
Pauline  had  erected  to  the  memory  of  William, 
and  said : 

'  'Everything  has  been  done  for  my  loved  ones 
by  other  hands  than  mine.  Not  a  single  work  of 
my  affection  can  anywhere  be  found,  even  on 
their  graves.  But  I  can  go  forth  into  the  world 
as  a  missionary  and  help  to  redeem  other  fathers. 
Oh,  if  I  could  only  save  enough  drunkards  from 
ruin  it  might  atone  for  the  past !  My  story  shall 
be  told  ;  and,  perhaps,  the  history  of  my  own 
sad  life  may  have  the  effect  of  bringing  others 
back  from  ruin."  Reader,  know  you  a  truly  re- 
formed drunkard  who  is  not  a  worker  in  the  tem- 
perance cause  ?  I  do  not.  They  may  not  be 
lecturers  or  writers,  but  in  some  way,  within  their 
sphere,  you  will  find  them  zealously  working  for 
the  cause  of  temperance,  if  it  is  no  more  than  to 
give  a  word  of  warning  to  the  unwary.  King 
Alcohol  is  such  a  slave  driver  that  men  once  in 
his  bondage  are  seldom  free.  The  reformed 
drunkard  is  never  safe. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ONE  MORE  ANGEL  IN  HEAVEN. 

"Cease  fond  nature,  cease  thy  strife 
And  let  me  languish  into  life." 

— Pope. 

TTTWO  years  more  have  rolled  by,  but  affairs 
•1  in  the  Denesmore  family  have  grown  no 
better.  In  fact,  they  have  gradually  grown 
worse.  They  no  longer  live  in  their  elegant 
home  which  had  been  theirs  for  so  many  years  ; 
but  in  a  little  cottage,  purchased  and  plainly 
furnished  with  what  Mrs.  Denesmore  and  Pauline 
v/ere  enabled  to  save  from  the  wreck.  Henry 
and  Mandy,  two  old  faithful  servants,  remained 
with  them,  declaring  that  they  would,  under  no 
circumstances,  leave  them  in  their  distress.  The 
new  home  was  made  as  attractive  and  as  pleas- 
ant as  it  could  well  be  under  the  circumstances. 
Pauline  taught  a  large  class  in  music.  All  the 
pupils  that  she  could  accommodate  were  soon 
selected  from  among  the  friends  whom  she  had 
known  in  her  days  of  prosperity.  Mrs.  Denes- 
more  and  her  daughter  could  have  been  happy 
even  in  their  humble  circumstances,  had  it  not 

281 


282  THE   WORST   FOE. 

been  that  Guy  still  continued  his  downward 
course.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Day  had  passed 
away,  leaving  an  insolvent  estate.  Ernest  had 
managed  to  secure  a  considerable  bulk  of  his 
father's  property,  and  he  had  by  the  most  un- 
scrupulous means  imaginable,  greatly  added  to 
that  until  he  was  wealthy.  Mark  was  energetic 
and  had  added  something  to  the  small  amount 
his  father  had  given  him.  He  had  commenced 
life  as  a  master  machinist  and  displayed  no  little 
ability.  Maria  who  had  intended  to  have  a 
home  with  her  parents  was  greatly  disappointed 
to  find  herself  left  penniless  and  utterly  depen- 
dent on  the  exertions  of  her  husband's  rela- 
tions, whom  she  cordially  hated.  She  asked  her 
brother  to  let  her  remain  at  the  old  Denesmore 
house  as  his  housekeeper,  but  he  smiled  and 
tauntingly  answered  that  he  could  not  under  any 
circumstances  live  in  that  old  haunted  house. 
'  'I  would  expect  to  have  ghosts  for  my  constant 
companions." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  saying  it  is  haunt- 
ed?" Maria  asked. 

"It  is  a  house  haunted  with  castles.  There 
were  a  great  many  castles  built  in  that  old  place, 
but  all  proved  to  be  air-castles,  and  to  one 
acquainted  with  the  circumstances  as  I  am,  it 
would  be  disagreeable.  Wherever  I  would  turn, 
I  would  see  Strasmore,  Pauline,  you  and  your 
Guy  as  you  were,  and  then  see  you  all  as  you 


THE   WORST    FOE,  283 

are,  and  the  walls  would  re-echo  with  the  groans 
of  broken  hearts."  Then  as  if  to  break  off  or 
change  the  conversation,  he  said:  "I  don't 
think  that  old  lady  Denesmore  will  last  long ; 
she  is  failing  fast.  I  don't  like  to  look  at  the 
old  saint.  Why  don't  her  God  come  and  save 
her  ?" 

"Hush,"  interrupted  Maria,  with  a  start  and 
a  shudder,  "you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  your- 
self to  talk  so.  I  don't  believe  in  their  God  any 
more  than  you,  but  I  have  learned  of  them  that 
their  perfect  faith  is  a  wonderful  comforter.  I 
have  seen  the  old  lady's  face  radiant  with  hap- 
piness, even  in  her  greatest  trouble,  while 
reading  her  Bible.  If  Christians  are  right,  they 
are  saved  and  we  are  lost ;  if  they  are  wrong,  no 
one  is  harmed  and  they  are  made  happy  amid 
all  their  troubles.  If  we  were  not  so  poor  and  if 
Guy , "  she  broke  down  and  sobbed. 

"You  would  be  a  Christian  ?"  said  Ernest, 
with  a  sneering  laugh.  "Well,  I  suppose  Guy 
is  the  ghost  of  the  Christian  he  once  was . " 

"You  are  cruel,  Ernest,"  Maria  sobbed  with 
her  hands  over  her  face.  Without  noticing  his 
sister's  sufferings,  he  continued  : 

"Whether  Christianity  is  a  reality  or  a  myth, 
it  is  powerless  to  save  one  from  a  financial  tumble. 
Pauline  was  rich,  beautiful,  proud  and  powerful 
in  society  seven  or  eight  years  ago.  Where  is 
she  now  ?  and  she  has  not  near  reached  the  bot- 
tom yet." 


284  THE  WORST   FOE. 

While  the  above  conversation  was  going  on 
between  the  brother  and  sister,  Pauline  and  the 
faithful  Mandy,  grown  tired  of  their  labors  in  re- 
pairing the  new  home,  were  sitting  down  for  a 
few  moments'  rest.  The  old  servant  was  very 
thoughtful  for  a  moment,  and  then  looking 
Pauline  in  the  face,  said  : 

"Your  mother  is  failing  fast?" 

"Yes,  mother  is  breaking  down  under  the 
terrible  burden  of  years  and  her  great  afflic- 
tions." 

Then  a  long  silence  fell  on  them  and  after  a 
struggle  Mandy  said : 

"I  don't  know,  Miss  Pauline,  but  I  sometimes 
think  it's  best  in  all  these  matters  to  be  a  little 
sorter  prepared,  you  know.  Life's  always  on- 
certain,  very  oncertain  with  us  all.  May  be  I 
don't  see  right,  for  where  there's  life,  there's 
hope ;  but  if  she  does  die  everybody  knows 
there'll  be  one  more  angel  in  Heaven.  We 
can't  always  tell  when  folks  die  whether  they  go- 
to Heaven  or  not,  but  your  mother,  everybody 
knows,  is  all  right  when  her  time  comes." 

From  that  time  Pauline's  anxiety  concerning 
her  mother  grew  greater.  That  mother  slowly 
wasted  away  without  any  perceptible  cause,  un- 
til before  they  had  been  a  year  in  their  new 
home,  she  was  confined  to  her  room  and  then  to 
her  bed.  Her  case  puzzled  the  most  skilled 
physicians,  and  despite  their  efforts  she  continu- 


THE   WORST    FOE.  285 

•ed  to  sink  lower.  Pauline  realized  from  the  first 
that  her  mother  had  taken  her  bed  for  the  last 
time.  Mrs.  Denesmore  had  often  talked  of  the 
coming  dissolution  and  begged  her  -daughter  to 
be  reconciled  to  the  inevitable.  Though  Paul- 
ine often  wept  in  secret  she  made  a  great  effort 
to  be  cheerful  in  the  presence  of  her  mother. 
The  day  was  just  dawning  when  Pauline,  sitting 
in  an  adjoining  room,  heard  her  mother's  voice 
faintly,  yet  earnestly  breathing  a  prayer.  At  the 
same  moment  she  heard  a  light  foot-step  and 
Guy  entered  her  apartment,  his  face  disfigured 
with  dissipation,  but  very  pale.  They  both  lis- 
tened and  heard  their  mother's  weak,  yet  clear 
voice  appealing  to  the  throne  of  grace. 

"Dear  Father,  if  it  be  Thy  will,  let  me  enter 
into  that  blessed  existence  which  is  eternal. 
Thou  alone  knowest  how  weary  I  have  grown 
of  this  mortal  strife,  and  how  I  long  to  enter 
that  world  where  no  sorrow  is  ever  known,  and 
yet,  oh,  God  !  teach  me  to  say  from  the  depths 
of  my  soul,  not  my  will  but  Thine  be  done. 
When  I  see  how  unworthy  I  am  of  thy  love  and 
care,  I  feel  constrained  to  thank  Thee  that  it  is 
so  well  with  me  as  it  is.  I  thank  Thee  for  my 
children,  and  now,  Father,  that  I  am  soon  to 
leave  them,  wilt  Thou  ever  be  with  and  comfort 
them.  Thou  knowest  how  hard  it  will  be  to 
Pauline,  bereft  of  a  mother  on  whose  love  and 
care  she  has  always  depended,  but  oh,  Father, 


286  THE   WORST   FOE. 

comfort  her  and  may  the  sunlight  of  her  faith 
never  fade  from  her  life.  Father,  save  my  boy, 
my  poor  unfortunate  Guy.  Thou  alone  know- 
est  how  much  he  has  suffered.  He  has  sinned ; 
he  has  been  lead  away  from  the  right,  but  Thou 
who  knowest  how  weak  the  tempted,  and  how 
strong  the  tempter,  can  forgive.  Oh,  do  forgive, 
do  save  !" 

Guy  could  hear  no  more,  but  dashed  into  the 
room,  fell  on  his  knees  and  sobbed  : 

'  'Oh !  mother,  dear  mother,  I  have  embitter- 
ed your  life.  I  have  brought  your  gray  hairs 
in  sorrow  to  the  grave.  Can  you  not  be  spared 
a  little  longer  to  witness  my  own  redemption.  I 
have  been  a  slave  in  the  power  of  the  most  cruel 
despot  that  ever  reigned  over  man,  and  I  have 
struggled  in  vain  against  it.  I'll  not  justify  my 
self  in  this,  but  if  I  had  married  in  a  different 
family — .  No,  I  won't  say  it,  mother.  Even 
though  a  creature  of  circumstances,  I  am  guilty. " 

After  a  moment's  silence,  the  mother  feebly 
said: 

"I  know  all  about  your  temptations.  The 
past  cannot  be  changed,  but  there  is  some  chance 
to  redeem  the  future.  Ask  God's  help  and  con- 
stantly keep  the  image  of  your  children  before 
you.  When  you  gaze  upon  your  baby,  think 
that  its  deformity  is  a  rebuke  to  your  sin.  Try 
from  this  on  to  make  the  name  you  give  your 
children  an  honor  to  them.  Your  sister  will 


THE  WORST  FOE.  287 

need  your  care,  Guy ;  do  not  add  to  her  burdens. 
You  know  how  patient  she  has  been  ;  try  and 
bind  up  her  broken  heart,  by  living  an  honor- 
able, upright  life  and  avoiding  your  besetting  sin. 
Stand  firm  to  the  right.  Remember  our  parting 
is  short,  our  meeting  forever." 

She  had  gradually  grown  weaker  and  weaker 
until  her  voice  died  away  in  a  whisper.  Both, 
Pauline  and  Guy  knew  that  the  end  was  near. 
At  intervals  during  the  day  she  slept,  but  all 
day  long  her  breathing  grew  shorter  and  shorter, 
until  just  before  the  sun  sank  to  rest  behind  the 
western  hills,  her  soul  winged  its  eternal  flight  to 
the  abode  of  the  blessed. 

A  large  funeral  train  followed  the  body  of 
Mary  Denesmore  to  the  cemetery.  Guy  felt  that 
all  eyes  were  on  him,  and  that  he  was  guilty  of 
murdering  his  mother.  As  the  coffin  was  lower- 
ed from  his  sight,  groans  of  agony  involuntarily 
burst  from  his  heart.  Many  a  pitying  eye  was- 
hed on  the  wretched  man ;  and  while  returning 
from  the  grave,  a  little  group  freely  discussed 
Guy's  wasted-  life  and  blighted  promises 

"He  is  to  blame  for  his  mother's  death  and 
the  ruin  of  his  family,"  said  one. 

"No,  not  altogether  to  blame,"  answered  an 
old  man,  who  was  one  of  the  group.  "We  are 
all  to  blame.  Rum  is  to  blame.  Had  there 
been  no  intoxicating  liquors  Guy  Denesmore 
would  have  been  a  sober,  honorable  man,  but  we- 


288  THE   WORST   FOE. 

have  permitted  The  Wotst  Foe  of  mankind  to 
flourish  among  us,  and  this  is  but  one  of  the 
results  ;  there  are  millions  more. " 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
"WHAT  HOLDS  ME?" 

"Thy  Maker's  will  has  placed  thee  here, 
A  maker  wise  and  good." 


[OWED  with  grief  and  remorse,  Guy  went 
home  from  his  mother's  funeral,  fully  resolv- 
ing to  lead  a  different  life.  Alas,  how  often  do 
we  plan  our  own  reformation,  and  yet  allow 
ourselves  to  be  seized  by  the  tempter  and  drag- 
ged down  to  ruin  and  death.  Poor  Guy,  he 
knew  not  how  weak  he  was,  nor  did  he  dream 
of  the  strength  of  the  tempter. 

Pauline  felt  that  nearly  all  the  brightness  had 
gone  out  from  this  earthly  existence.  The  grief 
and  remorse  of  her  brother  almost  made  her  for- 
get her  own  anguish.  When  Guy,  with  heart 
burdened  to  overflowing,  sank  down  upon  a  sofa 
at  her  side  and  wailed  :  '  'Oh,  why  was  I  ever 
born?"  she  felt  that  she  must  try  to  alleviate 
his  sufferings. 

"Don't  talk  so,  Guy,"  she  answered.  "Don't 
despair,  it  is  not  too  late  yet  for  you  to  win  an 
honorable  name.  You  have  erred,  and  never 

(19)  289 


2pO  THE   WORST    FOE. 

have  you  realized  it  more  than  now,  still  you 
are  on  the  saving  side  of  eternity.  Make  a  sol- 
lemn  pledge  in  the  sight  of  Heaven  never  to 
touch,  taste,  or  handle  again,  intoxicating  liquors. 
I  will  help  you,  your  friends  will  help  you,  and 
God  will  help  you.  You  will  find  the  same  evil 
influences  to  contend  with,  which  have  dragged 
you  down,  the  temptation  will  be  before  your 
eyes,  and  the  struggle  will  be  hard  and  long,  but 
the  harder  the  battle,  the  greater  the  victory.  I 
am  appalled  when  I  think  of  the  magnitude  of 
this  still  growing  evil ;  when  I  remember  you  as 
you  were  and  think  of  you  as  you  are — when  I 
I  think  what  we  might  have  been  had  it  not  been 
for  this  evil,  I  feel  almost  inclined  to  swear  eter- 
nal enmity  to  rum.  I  am  powerless  to  save  you, 
brother ;  you  alone  can  make  your  life  what  it 
should  be.  Brother,"  Pauline's  voice  was  very 
faint  and  trembling,  '  'now  is  the  time  to  embark 
on  the  voyage  of  safety." 

A  long  silence  followed.  The  baby  awoke 
and  began  to  cry.  Pauline  took  the  little  crea- 
ture from  its  cradle  and  held  it  in  her  arms  to 
try  to  quiet  it.  Guy  watched  them  both.  The 
poor  afflicted  baby  had  never  been  named.  The 
child  seemed  a  living  rebuke  to  its  father's  sin 
and  mother's  folly.  Every  time  Guy  looked  at 
the  withered  wrinkled  features,  or  watched  those 
spasmodic  twitchings  of  the  face  and  writhing  of 
the  whole  body,  like  one  in  a  fit  of  delirium  tre- 


THE   WORST    FOE.  2pl 

mens,  he  keenly  felt  this  rebuke.  But  Maria 
was  too  selfish  to  ever  find  any  fault  in  her  own 
acts.  She  was  sure  she  had  not  been  the  cause 
of  Guy's  turning  out  as  he  had.  She  did  not 
want  him  to  be  a  drunkard,  and  she  had  scolded 
and  fretted  and  cried  herself  into  hysterics,  be- 
cause he  would  drink.  One  day  Mark  had  said 
to  her: 

"This  is  what  you  get  for  urging  Guy  to  take 
his  first  glass."  She  quickly  answered  in  a  high 
state  of  ill-humor  that  it  could  be  no  harm  for 
him  to  sip  a  little  wine  just  out  of  politeness  to 
their  guests.  She  had  no  idea  it  would  ever 
make  a  drunkard  of  him. 

"But  it  was  his  young  wife  who  first  held  the 
tempting  cup  to  the  lips  of  her  husband,"  said 
Mark,  impatiently.  "You  deserve  it." 

"Hush,  shut  your  mouth  !  "  screamed  Maria. 
Pauline,  laying  her  hand  on  Mark's  shoulder, 
said: 

"Don't,  Mark;  don't  cast  reflections.  It  is 
hard  enough  for  Maria  to  bear  now.  She  little 
dreamed  what  the  end  would  be,  or  she  never 
would  have  offered  that  first  glass. " 

"No  !  she  didn't  know  how  it  would  end  ;  but 
now  she  can  see  what  the  end  is  liable  to  be. 
But  she  keeps  wine  and  stimulants  on  hand  to 
keep  up  her  strength.  Bosh  !  Guy  needs  liquor 
just  as  much  as  she  does,"  and  Mark  left  the 
room. 


292  THE   WORST    FOE. 

But  to  return  to  the  present,  Guy  watched 
Pauline  and  the  baby  for  some  moments,  when 
his  own  little  Pauline  came  into  the  room  and 
going  to  her  father's  side,  she  fixed  her  eyes  af- 
fectionately on  his  face.  Guy,  with  little  Paul- 
ine on  one  knee,  took  the  afflicted  baby  from  the 
arms  of  his  sister,  and  kissing  its  wrinkled  fore- 
head, said: 

"Pauline,  I  have  struggled  hard  to  throw  off 
this  slavery ;  Heaven  only  knows  how  much  I 
have  suffered  or  what  a  slave  I  have  been.  If 
there  is  any  good  left  in  me  yet,  by  the  help  of 
Heaven  and  all  the  will  power  I  possess,  I  will 
never — never — fall  again." 

The  pledge  was  given  with  so  much  firmness 
and  earnestness  that  the  wife  and  sister  were  full 
of  hope  that  he  would  keep  it.  Pauline  felt  that 
a  ray  of  happiness  might  yet  be  in  store  for  her. 

Childhood  soon  forgets  sorrow,  and  little  Paul- 
ine who  had  been  shocked  at  the  awful  solemnity 
of  death  now  went  to  a  corner  and  began  build- 
ing a  house  with  her  blocks.  Maria  watched  her 
with  a  hope  almost  akin  to  joy ;  and  Guy  listen- 
ed to  her  innocent  prattle  with  a  dread  fear  of 
evil.  He  knew  what  he  had  before  him.  Would 
he  be  able  to  conquer  The  Worst  Foe,  or  would 
he  again  fall  into  the  snare  of  the  tempter  ? 

"No!  I  will  never — never — fall  again,"  he 
mentally  declared.  Pauline,  watching  the  west- 
ern horizon  whose  ruddy  glow  indicated  the  re- 


THE    WORST   FOE.  293 

treat  of  the  sun,  predicted  a  brighter  future  for 
all.  That  day  of  mourning  ended  in  one  of 
thanksgiving  and  prayer  for  help  to  keep  sacred 
resolutions. 

It  is  easy  to  fall,  but  difficult  to  regain  the 
position  once  held.  The  lower  the  fall,  the  more 
difficult  to  regain  the  former  footing ;  yet  Pauline 
had  hope.  Guy  needed  encouragement,  and  she 
made  his  cause  her  own.  In  the  months  which 
followed,  she  received  her  reward  in  the  knowledge 
that  her  brother  was  leading  a  life  of  sobriety. 
He  seemed  to  have  returned  to  what  his  early 
life  had  promised  to  be ;  and  with  the  greatest 
hope,  Pauline  prayed  that  the  prospects  might 
not  be  blighted.  None  knew  of  Pauline's  trials, 
save  her  young  friend,  Mark.  Who  was  better 
acquainted  with  Mark  than  herself?  He  also 
knew  that  but  little  dependence  could  be  put  on 
Maria,  for  all  who  could  not  be  made  instrumen- 
tal in  the  accomplishment  of  her  own  ends,  were 
discarded  as  worthless. 

Pauline  had  fixed  principles  of  right  and 
wrong,  which  no  power  or  circumstance  could 
change;  and,  although  desirous  of  peace,  she 
would  not  swerve  from  the  path  of  duty.  Every 
roughness  jarred  on  her  sensitive  nature ;  but  all 
this  was  nothing  compared  to  her  brother's  loss. 
Now  that  he  was  slowly  retracing  his  steps,  she 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  her  own  perplexities,  thank- 
ing God  that  it  was  as  well  as  it  was. 


294  THE  WORST   FOE. 

One  evening  Mark  happened  in,  when  Maria, 
to  use  his  own  expression,  "was  on  a  tare."  She 
never  tried  to  control  her  temper  on  account  of 
his  presence,  but  went  on,  upbraiding  Pauline 
and  calling  her  a  prudish  old  maid  whom  every 
body  disliked.  Having  given  vent  to  her  feel- 
ings in  a  final  burst  of  temper,  Maria  left  the 
room,  and  Mark,  looking  after  her  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  said: 

"I  am  glad  the  hurricane  is  past.  I  have  been 
trying  to  think  of  a  storm  proof  shelter  for  you, 
Miss  Denesmore." 

"It  is  well  you  did  not  speak,  Mark.  Such 
things  only  make  matters  worse.  I  have  not  al- 
ways been  silent,  though  every  time  I  have  spoken 
back,  I  have  degraded  myself. " 

"What  makes  you  put  up  with  it,  Miss  Denes- 
more  ?"  asked  Mark.  "Why  don't  you  find  an- 
other home  ?  You  might  have  choice  of  homes 
among  your  pupils.  As  long  as  your  mother 
lived  I  could  understand  why  you  bore  so  much, 
but  now  I  can't  see  what  holds  you." 

"Mark,  if  I  should  go  away  and  Guy  should 
again  fall,  I  would  feel  that  I  was  to  blame.  I 
have  faith  in  him,  but  I  know  he  is  fighting  a 
terribly  fierce  and  cunning  foe,  and  he  needs  my 
help  to  combat  this  evil.  Whenever  he  returns 
to  this  place  he  calls  home,  he  needs  me,  the 
baby  needs  me  and  my  duty  is  very  plain — that 
is  what  holds  me.' 


THE   WORST   FOE.  2p5 

"And  your  life  will  be  sacrificed.  In  every 
reformation  there  have  been  martyrs.  William 
Strasmore  was  a  martyr  to  his  sense  of  right,  I 
shall  always  believe ;  and  you  will  waste  your 
life  and  talent  here  for  the  interest  of  one,  at 
least,  who  is  too  selfish  to  appreciate  your  kind- 
ness." 

Pauline  was  unmoved  from  her  purpose.  Her 
duty  was  plain  and  she  was  sure  her  life's  efforts 
would  not  be  without  avail.  When  she  had  dis- 
missed Mark  and  returned  to  her  own  room, 
there  was  an  indefinable  longing  in  her  breast  for 
her  own  peculiar  idols  enshrined  in  her  heart. 
Despite  all  her  determined  resolutions  she  could 
not  but  ask  herself: 

"Am  I  to  always  live  this  way  ?  Are  my  days 
to  be  passed  without  the  world  being  any  better 
for  my  having  lived  in  it?" 

The  sound  of  her  brother's  voice  who  had  re- 
turned drowned  all  longings,  and  she  was  soon 
with  him  talking  encouragingly  of  the  present 
and  hopefully  of  the  future.  When  she  retired 
to  rest,  she  thought : 

"If  I  can  but  redeem  Guy,  will  it  not  be  a 
glorious  work,  and  will  I  not  feel  that  my  life  has 
not  been  lived  in  vain." 

But  little  time  was  left  poor  Pauline  for  long- 
ings and  regrets.  Overwhelming  disaster  seem- 
ed to  engulf  her,  and  she  was  all  alive  to  the 
woes  by  which  she  was  surrounded.  Had 


THE   WORST    FOE. 


296 

h  not  been  for  the  shortness  of  those  dark  days, 
she  would  have  sunk  into  the  whirlpool,  and 
been  engulfed  forever  from  mortal  vision. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE     FINAL    WRECK. 

"Now  conscience  wakes  despair 
That  slumbered,  wakes  the  bitter  memory 
Of  what  he  was,  what  is,  and  what  must  b« 
Worse:  *         *         * 

— Milton. 

TTFHE  snow  had  covered  the  grave  of  Mrs. 
-*-  Denesmore  the  grass  had  grown  green; 
the  flowers  had  blossomed  and  completed  their 
mission  ;  Jack  Frost  had  lightly  touched  them, 
and  now  they  hung  their  drooping  heads  as  if 
awaiting  the  parting  benediction  of  the  season. 
The  beauty  of  nature  seemed  to  have  grown 
more  refined.  Autumn  had  lent  her  golden 
tints  and  voluptuous  maturity  to  the  charms  of 
spring  and  summer.  Nature  had  done  her  part 
well,  not  only  to  preserve  the  beauty,  but  the 
health  of  those  who  had  much  abused  her.  She 
had  dealt  justly  with  Guy  Denesmore.  The  mis- 
spent years  of  his  life  she  could  not  restore ; 
nor  his  strength  or  physical  vigor,  as  it  was 
before  those  golden  moments,  studded  with  dia- 
mond stars,  were  buried  in  the  wine  cup.  But 

2»T 


2$8  THE  WORST  FOE. 

when  Guy  had  said,  "I  will  once  more  be  a  man, " 
and  called  on  all  the  good  left  in  him  to  assist 
him  in  the  struggle  with  his  appetite  that  he 
might  overcome  the  temptations  which  beset 
him,  she  rallied  all  her  remaining  forces  and 
brought  them  to  the  grand  change.  Victory 
seemed  assured. 

Physical  nature  is  the  most  affectionate  moth- 
er, the  most  loving  and  obedient  of  all  God's 
servants.  She  toils  as  faithfully  with  man  to- 
day as  she  did  with  Adam.  Guy  soon  grew  to 
enjoy  sleep  at  the  regular  hours  for  slumber,  and 
awoke  refreshed  with  newly-added  energies  each 
morning.  He  did  not  reflect  that  nature  kissed 
his  eyelids  down  and,  while  he  slumbered,  was 
busily  at  work  binding  up  the  broken  tissues, 
and  clearing  away  the  work  of  decay  accumulat- 
ed by  alcohol.  He  was  wide  awake  to  the  con- 
sciousness that  he  was  warring  with  the  enemies 
that  environed  him.  His  name  was  frequently 
offered  at  the  throne  of  grace,  but  he  had  long 
since  ceased  to  be  a  supplicant  there.  He  con- 
stantly asked  himself: 

"Is  there  a  God  who  answers  prayer?" 
He  could  not  believe  it,  else  why  had  he  fallen? 
Scarcely  dared  he  to  breathe  his  secret  thoughts. 
His  early  training  and  the  inclination  of  his  young 
heart  had  been  religious,  and  he  was  not  yet  so 
bold  as  to  discard  the  faith  of  his  forefathers.  He 
dared  not  scoff  at  Christianity,  for  once  it  had 


THE   WORST   FOE.  299* 

brought  him  happiness,  and  he  still  held  in  sac- 
red respect  those  who  adhered  to  the  belief,  even 
though  in  his  own  heart  doubt  had  taken  the- 
place  of  faith,  At  first  he  felt  the  guilt  of  sin,  that 
he  was  responsible.  He  tried  to  get  away  from 
the  Lord,  and  set  up  many  excuses  for  his  own 
conduct.  Then  when  Satan  came  and  whisper- 
ed in  his  ears  that  "God  does  not  take  care  of 
his  own,"  he  began  to  doubt.  Faith,  though 
dethroned,  lingered  near,  knowing  that  if  she  en- 
tirely left  him,  his  ruin  was  inevitable.  While 
God's  attributes  Faith,  Hope  and  Charity  still 
hovered  about  the  despairing  soul,  Satan  con- 
tinued to  whisper*. 

"God  cares  not  for  his  children."  Alcohol 
had  stupefied  his  brain  and  so  weakened  his  re- 
solutions that  he  had  not  power  to  say : 

"Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan,  God  has  placed 
me  here  a  free  moral  agent,  and  I  will  dethrone 
my  tyrant.  I  will  go  on  the  Lord's  side  and 
combat  the  devil  in  every  form."  But  instead  he 
seized  on  the  skeptic's  fatal  chord  and  declared, 
"I  will  believe  that  only  of  which  I  have  visible 
proof." 

This  infidelity  had  come  into  the  mind  of  Dr. 
Denesmore,  not  as  the  result  of  his  own  seek- 
ing, but  like  a  miasma  comes  into  the  system 
when  the  air  one  breathes  is  freighted  with  it. 
It  came  into  his  mind  imperceptibly.  He  sought 
scientific  and  medical  knowledge,  but  did  not 


3OO  THE   WORST    FOE. 

seek  this  mental  disease.  People  rarely  seek 
disease.  They  locate  where  the  air  is  pregnant 
with  it,  and  then  breath  it  in,  seldom  knowing 
liow  or  when.  So  Dr.  Denesmore  had  located 
in  the  Day  family,  where  the  mental  and  moral 
atmosphere  were  poisoned  with  the  most  subtile 
infidelity,  that  had  imperceptibly  become  a  part 
of  his  thought  and  feeling,  he  knew  not  how  nor 
when.  This  had  broken  down  the  tissues  of  his 
mental  and  moral  character  and  robbed  him  of 
the  strength  and  courage  born  of  faith  and  hope. 

Although  he  had  grown  skeptical  before  his 
mother's  death,  neither  she  nor  Pauline  knew  of 
it.  Anxiously  the  lovers  of  temperance  and 
humanity  watched  his  course.  Pauline's  con- 
fidence had  almost  reached  that  state  where  her 
mind  could  get  a  season  of  rest.  Maria  began 
to  lay  golden  plans  for  the  future  in  which  her 
•own  selfish  aims  were  kept  in  view. 

There  were  some  good  people  in  Staunton 
who  said  to  themselves  that  it  was  only  a  ques- 
tion of  time.  Guy's  house  was  builded  on  the 
sand,  and  lacking  the  solid  foundation  of  faith 
would  fall.  These  prophesies  failed  to  reach  the 
ears  of  his  anxious  family  and  they  did  not  realize 
that  a  dark  cloud  hung  over  their  heads  ready  to 
burst  in  all  its  fury. 

*         #         #         *         *         *         *         * 

The  family  at  the  little  cottage  are  partaking 
of  their  evening:  meal.  The  face  of  Pauline  is 


THE   WORST   FOE.  3Ot 

grave  and  solemn.  Guy  looked  at  her  and  then 
at  his  wife.  There  is  not  that  peace  and  content 
on  the  faces  of  the  humble  family  which  was  prom- 
ised in  the  past.  At  last  Pauline  broke  the 
silence  by  saying : 

'  'Do  you  remember  what  this  day  is  the  anni- 
versary of?"  fixing  her  pale  anxious  face  on  Guy 
and  Maria.  Maria  folded  her  napkin  carefully 
and  answered : 

"Let  me  see.  It  has  been  four  years  since 
Guy  brought  me  a  silk  until  this  afternoon.  My 
wardrobe  has  become  downright  shabby." 

Pauline  was  pained  and  a  disappointed  look 
came  to  the  face  of  Guy.  After  a  moment's 
disappointment,  he  said: 

"Pauline  does  not  mean  that.  It  is  a  year  to- 
day since  mother  was  laid  to  rest." 

For  a  moment  Maria  hung  her  head  and  some- 
thing like  a  faint  flush  overspread  her  face,  then 
she  said : 

"Certainly,  Pauline  spoke  of  it  the  first  of  the 
week,  I  ought  to  have  remembered  it." 

"One  year,"  repeated  Guy  slowly  at  the  same 
time  heaving  a  deep  sigh.  "Can  it  be  possible 
that  mother  watches  over  us  ?  Is  there  a  home 
hereafter?" 

"Why,  Guy!"  exclaimed  Pauline,  in  pain 
and  astonishment.  "We  cannot  know  whether 
our  mother  watches  over  us  or  not,  and  often  I 
have  thought  not.  Her  heart  would  bleed  if  she 


3O2  THE   WORST   FOE. 

witnessed  the  trials  of  her  children  and  sorrow 
cannot  enter  Heaven.  But  there  can  be  no 
doubt  of  a  hereafter.  How  can  you  doubt  it  ? 
We  are  only  here  on  probation  ;  and  we  should 
think  well  how  we  spend  our  golden  moments, 
that  we  may  be  the  better  prepared  to  enter 
Heaven  which  is  eternal." 

"I  used  to  believe  the  same  myself,  but  bitter 
experience  has  taught  me  that,  live  as  just  as  we 
may,  when  the  time  to  err  comes  we  will  do  it 
in  spite  of  ourselves.  Though  only  creatures  of 
circumstances,  we  receive  the  condemnation  of 
the  world.  Life  is  a  drama.  We  may  do  what 
we  will  behind  the  scenes,  act  ever  so  wisely  or 
prudently ;  yet  when  the  curtain  rises  for  us  to 
appear  on  the  stage,  we  mechanically  play  the 
part  assigned  us,  and  the  role  the  players  as- 
sume frequently  surprises  the  world.  But  fate 
has  assigned  us  our  parts  and  we  may  just  as  well 
take  them  when  the  time  comes  as  not." 

"Who  is  the  stage  manager?"  asked  Pauline, 
solemnly.  '  'If  life  is  a  drama  and  the  world  a 
stage,  there  must  be  a  stage  manager." 

"Fate  manages  the  affair." 

"But  if  there  is  no  hereafter,  why  should  fate 
go  to  so  much  trouble  for  us?  Why  not  let  us 
alone  in  blissful  ignorance,  instead  of  parading 
us  before  a  gaping  world  to  play  a  part  unsuited 
to  us  ?  Besides,  if  fate  alone  ruled  the  affairs  of 
mankind,  we  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 


THE    WORST    FOE.  303 

our  future  destiny.  Were  there  not  an  immortal 
soul  which  incites  in  every  human  heart  a  desire 
to  do  noble  deeds,  to  be  an  honor  to  himself, 
and  in  honoring  his  own  name,  to  honor  man- 
kind, we  could  not  hope  for  the  future,  nor  feel 
remorse  for  the  past ;  we  would  be  as  the  brutes, 
we  would  not  think  even  of  fate.  If  you  be- 
lieve in  fate,  you  believe  in  power.  Why  not 
believe  in  God  as  that  power,  and  man  as  His 
subject  ? 

"Do  you  believe  in  fate,  Pauline?" 
"I  know  there  is  a  divinity  that  shapes  our 
destiny,  over  which  we  have  no  control.  We 
are  all  born  to  die,  but  Christ  redeemed  us  to 
eternal  life  which  can  be  ours  if  we  choose. 
When  your  little  girl  was  born  I  asked  myself  is 
she  come  into  a  world  of  disappointment  and 
woe,  or  will  she  choose  eternal  life.  I  decided 
that  I  would  do  all  I  could  for  her.  I  thought  of 
you,  Guy.  She  was  yours  and  you  would  not 
choose  death  for  her.  The  iniquities  of  the 
father  are  visited  on  the  children  even  to  the 
third  and  fourth  generation.  You  may  call  this 
fate,  but  aside  from  what  we  inherit,  fate  has 
nothing  to  do  with  us,  and  man  is  even  able  to 
defy  fate,  and  by  the  help  of  God  overcome  in- 
herited appetites.  Jesus  broke  the  bars  of  death 
and  man  can  enter  life  eternal  if  he  will." 

"If  life  is  a  drama,  I  think  the  devil  must  be 
the  stage  manager,"  interposed  Maria. 


304  THE  WORST  FOE. 

1  'If  we  believe  in  a  devil,  we  must  also  believe 
in  a  God.  Satan  sometimes  makes  his  victims 
play  a  role  to  which  they  are  not  adapted.  The 
devil  never  does  a  noble  act,  and  he  invites  you 
to  do  evil  acts.  There  are  others  inviting  you  to 
choose  the  part  they  have  set  for  you.  Their 
Leader  laid  the  foundation,  and  lives  in  the  heart 
of  all  that  are  good.  His  commandment  covers 
the  ground.  'Love  the  Lord  thy  God,  with  all 
thy  soul,  might  and  strength,  and  thy  neighbor 
as  thyself.'  Brother,  you  know  what  the  enjoy- 
ment of  that  love  is.  Satan  had  no  power  over 
you,  save  the  power  of  the  appetite,  that 
could  have  robbed  you  of  that  enjoyment.  In- 
temperance brought  you  nothing  but  misery  after 
you  became  its  slave." 

Was  not  Pauline  right  ?  Is  there  not  as  much 
reason  to  believe  in  the  personal  character  of  a 
God  as  of  a  devil  ?  And  is  it  not  much  more 
reasonable  to  believe  in  a  God  who  made  the 
heavens  and  the  earth  than  to  believe  in  the  in- 
definite nothing  that  some  people  call  fate? 
What  is  fate?  Who  can  tell?  Is  it  an  unseen 
power  of  nature  that  acts  upon  persons  and 
things  to  control  them  ?  Is  it  not  more  reason- 
able to  believe  in  an  intelligent  personal  force, 
and  to  name  that  force  God,  than  it  is  to  believe 
in  a  blind,  unintelligible  force  that  some  name 
Fate?  The  greatest  scientists  of  the  world 
say,  "There  is  an  unseen  force  at  work  in  the 


THE    WORST    fruK.  30$ 

\vorld  that  no  science  has  yet  discovered. "  Why 
can  they  not  discover  this  force  ?  They  are 
aware  of  its  presence,  but  cannot  find  it.  The 
Christian  says  this  force  is  God.  Three  thou- 
sand years  ago  in  the  days  of  Job  the  question 
was  asked,  "Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out 
God  ?"  This  recent  confession  of  the  great 
scientists  seems  to  prove  the  Scripture  declara- 
tion that,  "Man  by  wisdom  knew  not  God." 
How  then  do  Christians  know  God  ?  They  say 
that  God  reveals  himself  to  them  in  a  way  that 
he  does  not  to  unbelievers.  They  quote  from 
their  Bible,  '  'No  man  knoweth  the  Father  save 
the  Son ;  and  he  to  whom  the  Son  doth  reveal 
him."  They  say  God  by  his  Spirit  dwells  in 
the  believer.  And  there  does  seem  to  have 
been  in  believing  Pauline  an  unseen  sustaining 
power  that  was  not  in  her  unbelieving  brother 
and  his  unbelieving  wife. 

There  was  a  silence  of  half  an  hour's  duration. 
Guy  walked  the  floor  and  sighed  deeply  every 
few  moments.  Pauline's  lips  quivered,  and  she 
could  not  say  another  word.  She  had  not  said 
half  she  desired  to  say  to  her  brother  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  yet  she  dared  not  upbraid  him  lest 
she  should  drive  him  farther  from  her.  The 
advice  of  William  Strasmore  seemed  at  this  mo- 
ment to  be  ringing  in  her  ears,  "Never  waste  a 
golden  opportunity."  Her  brother  had  lost  his 
faith,  was  a  doubter,  an  infidel,  and  on  the  bor- 

(30) 


3O6  THE   WORST   FOE. 

der  of  that  dark  land  of  uncertainty  called  skep- 
ticism. She  would  have  given  worlds  then  to 
redeem  him,  but  dared  not  argue  with  him  lest 
she  make  him  more  obdurate. 

At  last  Guy  went  to  his  little  daughter  who 
was  playing  with  her  doll,  took  her  chubby  face 
between  his  hands,  kissed  her,  and  left  the  house. 
He  paused  a  moment  when  on  the  street  as  if  ir- 
resolute, but  was  soon  walking  down  the  street 
toward  his  place  of  business. 

Pauline  Denesmore's  brain  was  in  a  whirl. 
She  had  seen  her  brother  in  delirium  tremens  and 
on  the  border  land  of  shadows,  but  the  agony  of 
such  a  sight  was  nothing  compared  to  the  knowl- 
edge that  he  had  become  an  infidel.  She  still 
hoped  that  his  faith  would  make  him  whole,  and 
prayed  that  God's  mercy  might  yet  save  him. 
She  realized  that  if  he  was  again  tempted  to  drink, 
he  would,  without  the  saving  grace  of  God,  be 
lost.  If  he  lived  a  life  of  temperance  there  was 
some  hope  yet  for  him,  but  alas !  one  of  the 
strongest  motives  to  temperance  was  now  taken 
away.  If  he  fell  again,  there  would  be  less  shame 
and  remorse,  and  no  religious  hope  to  give  him 
aid.  She  closed  her  eyes  against  such  grim  fore- 
bodings and  silently  prayed  for  the  future. 

The  words  of  his  sister  strangely  moved  Guy 
Denesmore,  not  that  he  believed  anything  she 
had  said.  Satan  still  held  him  in  subjection  and 
whispered,  "There  is  no  God."  He  knew  he 


THE   WORST    FOE.  3O/ 

was  not  so  happy  now  as  when  he  believed 
in  the  religion  his  parents  had  taught  him.  Even 
while  he  condemned  himself  for  the  ruin  of  his 
family,  he  said : 

"There  is  no  God, — if  there  had  been,  why 
did  not  He  save  me  ?  "  He  passed  the  saloon  in 
which  he  had  spent  so  many  hours  in  debauchery. 
Suddenly  he  seemed  possessed  of  a  strong  de- 
sire to  enter  it.  His  eyes  were  lifted  heavenward. 
Alcohol  had  bleared  his  vision,  and  he  turned 
them  toward  those  dark  screens.  He  knew  that 
within  were  men  who,  ashamed  of  their  nefarious 
business,  carried  it  on  behind  screens  and  blinds. 
There  men  entered,  and  hired  the  saloon-keeper 
to  take  their  honor,  wealth  and  good  name. 
He  thought  of  all  this,  and  passed  this  gate  of 
earthly  hell,  but  the  thirst  and  burning  desire 
were  so  rapidly  increasing  that  he  knew  he  soon 
must  yield.  Satan  whispered,  "Fate  decrees  it, 
it 's  useless  to  fight  longer."  At  this  moment  a 
second  temptation  in  the  form  of  a  saloon  pre- 
sented itself,  and  he  rushed  madly  in  and  was 
lost  to  view  behind  those  dark  screens  which  hide 
from  the  face  of  man  many  a  heinous  crime. 

It  was  a  dark  night.  The  rain  had  poured 
down  all  day,  and  now  at  midnight  the  windows 
of  Heaven  seemed  opened,  and  a  deluge  poured 
upon  the  earth.  The  lights  in  the  cottage  were 
turned  low.  The  pale  face  and  anxious  looks  of 


308  THE   WORST    FOE. 

Pauline  as  she  walked  to  and  fro  in  the  room,  told 
of  her  anxiety.  Maria  was  sitting  at  a  window, 
the  curtain  of  which  she  drew  back,  at  intervals 
of  every  few  moments  to  peer  out  into  the  dark- 
ness. Her  eyelids  were  blistered  with  weeping, 
and  shivering  with  cold  and  dread  she  sighed : 

"Oh !  the  rain,  it  makes  me  so  nervous  !  One 
o'clock  ! — what  can  keep  him  ?  " 

Pauline  paused  in  her  walk,  looked  down  on 
the  poor,  crouching  figure  at  the  window.  Tak- 
ing a  seat  by  the  side  of  the  miserable  wife,  she 
put  her  arm  affectionately  about  her  and  tender- 
ly said : 

'  'Poor  Maria,  I  pity  you,  and  I  pity  little  Paul- 
ine. How  thankful  we  should  be  that  the  little 
boy  went  to  Heaven  six  months  ago.  What  we 
then  thought  an  affliction  is  really  a  blessing.  I 
pity  myself,  but  more  than  all,  do  I  pity  poor, 
misguided  Guy.  Oh,  Heaven!  is  there  not 
something  that  can  yet  be  done  to  save  him  ? 
There  are  others  who  will  help  us  if  they  can." 

Looking  out  of  the  window,  Maria  sobbed: 
"I  see  no  way.  Oh!  I  wish  I  could  die  and 
leave  it  all." 

"I  do  not  want  to  die,"  Pauline  answered. 
"I  want  to  live  to  see  this  evil  wiped  away  from 
the  face  of  our  land,  or  in  a  fair  way  to  be 
trampled  under  the  feet  of  humanity." 

The  long  hours  dragged  wearily  by.  Morning 
dawned,  but  no  Guy  came.  Pauline  could  not 


THE    WORST    EOE.  3OQ 

wait  longer.  The  rain  had  now  ceased ;  and 
with  Guy's  little  child,  she  went  forth  in  search 
of  the  fallen  one.  We  would  that  the  picture 
of  this  sister  and  child  in  search  of  the  lost 
brother  and  father,  and  the  form  of  the  poor, 
half-demented  wife  at  home,  could  be  placed  be- 
fore every  man  who  contemplates  voting  for 
whisky  or  whisky  men.  Maria  watched  them 
out  of  sight,  and  turned  slowly  from  the  door 
with  a  sickening  foreboding  at  her  heart. 

H«  %  %  *  H«  %  HS 

A  night  of  debauchery  spent  by  Guy  Denes- 
more  was  nothing  uncommon.  In  the  dark  hours 
just  before  the  dawn  of  morning,  he  started  home. 
He  went  to  his  office,  where  no  patients  ever  en- 
tered now,  and  entering  it,  dropped  into  a  chair  and 
fell  asleep.  Some  strange,  fatal  spell  seemed  on 
him,  and  try  as  he  would,  he  could  not  throw  it 
off.  There  seemed  no  escape  from  the  inevitable 
ruin  which  threatened  him.  He  had  long  since 
lost  all  hope.  In  the  gray  twilight  of  early 
morning  he  awoke  with  a  start.  He  was  cold 
and  shivering,  and  it  was  some  moments  before 
he  could  realize  where  he  was.  There  was  a 
gnawing  pain  of  remorse  at  his  heart,  and  he  was 
in  the  depths  of  despair.  Though  his  senses 
were  dulled,  his  recollection  was  keen  and  he 
groaned  in  his  misery. 

'I  am  a  poor,  miserable  fool — a  slave,  and 
there  is  no  help — no  hope.  All  is  wan  despair, 
here  and  hereafter." 


3IO  THE    WORST    FOR. 

He  dare  not  look  into  the  future  for  redemp. 
tion  and  Heaven  had  disappeared  before  his  athe- 
ism. Matters  had  been  steadily  growing  worse  for 
months.  He  thought  of  his  wife,  his  child,  his 
sister  and  his  own  misery,  and  then  his  wild  brain 
tried  to  escape,  but  there  was  no  escape.  In  his 
maddening  desperation  he  went  to  his  desk  and 
opened  it.  There  was  all  he  wanted,  but  he 
would  be  found  and  a  stomach  pump  brought  to 
save  him  from  eternal  oblivion  to  this  life  of  woe. 
Those  demons  would  not  want  him  to  escape — 
they  preferred  to  see  him  paraded  before  them 
for  their  own  entertainment.  He  must  be  quick 
or  he  would  be  cheated  yet  of  that  rest  he  so 
long  had  desired.  He  opened  drawer  after 
drawer  as  these  wild  thoughts  ran  riot  through 
his  brain.  At  last  his  eyes  caught  sight  of  the 
pistol  for  which  he  was  searching.  He  hailed 
it  as  a  welcome  friend,  and  chuckled  with  the 
delight  of  a  madman.  It  was  loaded  and  in  good 
order.  He  must  be  quick  or  the  demons  of  the 
damned  would  come 

When  Pauline  with  the  child  reached  the  office 
she  was  surprised  to  find  the  door  unlocked. 
The  child  ran  in  and  cried  : 

"Oh,  papa,  papa  are  you  asleep?  " 

Pauline  entered,  and  saw  her  brother  lying  on 
the  floor,  his  face  downward,  and  the  fatal  pistol 
near  his  hand.  She  gave  utterance  to  a  piercing 
shriek,  and  fell  insensible  to  the  floor.  Whe* 


THE   WORST   FOE. 

she  regained  her  consciousness,  Mandy  was 
bending  over  her,  and  a  physician  and  Mark  stood 
near.  She  was  in  her  own  bed,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment could  hardly  comprehend  what  had  hap- 
pened. Maria's  wailings  brought  it  all  back  to 
her  mind.  She  afterwards  learned  that  her  scream 
and  the  cries  of  the  child  had  brought  a  police- 
man to  the  office,  and  she  had  been  quickly  con- 
veyed to  the  little  cottage.  Awaking  to  the  aw- 
ful realization  of  what  had  happened,  Pauline 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  cried : 

"Oh,    my   brother — my  poor  brother — lost, 
lost — forever  lost !  " 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

HE    MEETS    HIS    DESTINY. 

"And  on  that  cheek,  and  o'er  that  brow 

So  soft,  so  calm,  so  eloquent, 
The  smiles  that  win,  the  tints  that  glow, 

But  tell  of  days  in  goodness  spent, 
A  mind  at  peace  with  all  below, 

A  heart  whose  love  is  innocent." 

—  Byron. 


WOULD  better  join  our  party,  to-mon 
row,  Day.  You  have  never  beheld  more 
beautiful  scenery  and  you  will  find  it  a  gay  little 
party,  one  which  will  drive  dull  care  away.  A 
great  many  of  our  young  folks  will  be  going,  " 

"I  appreciate  your  manifest  interest  in  me  ;  and 
I  will  be  most  happy  to  accompany  your  party. 
When  do  you  start?  " 

"At  six  o'clock.  You  can  have  a  seat  in  my- 
carriage.  I  will  call  for  you." 

'  'Thank  you,  I  will  be  ready.     Good  evening.  " 

"Good-by,  Mark,  I  will  be  sure  to  call;  "  and 
bowing,  the  last  speaker  hurried  away. 

Mark  Day  remained  standing  a  few  seconds, 
on  the  long  porch  in  front  of  his  hotel,  and  then, 
turning  about  went  to  his  room.  '  'I  feel  guilty, 


THE   WORST   FOE.  315 

he  sighed,  "when  I  think  of  joining  a  pleasure 
party.  Poor  Maria  and  Pauline  !  they  can  take 
no  pleasure — but  Pauline  charged  me  strictly  to 
have  a  good  time,  and  that  I  must  regain  my 
appetite.  I  guess  I've  done  that,  for  it  has  not 
been  very  faraway  from  me.  Yet  I  would  rather 
not  go  with  that  party.  Snow  would  not  have 
asked  me  had  he  known  that  not  two  months 
since  my  sister's  husband,  a  man  of  whom  I  was 
once  so  proud,  committed  suicide." 

He  ceased  talking  while  a  shudder  passed  over 
his  frame.  Somehow  he  always  shuddered  when 
he  recalled  that  horrible  scene.  "This  is  Prohi- 
bition Kansas, "  said  Mark  to  himself  sadly,  "and- 
to  let  them  know  that  my  family  has  been  ruined 
by  strong  drink  would  be  a  stigma  on  myself. 
Thank  Heaven,  I  am  in  one  State  where  it  is  dis- 
reputable to  drink  !  and  even  though  drinking  is 
done  on  the  sly,  it  is  not  so  destructive  as  the  bold 
and  open  sale  in  my  native  State.  Licensed  rum 
holes  do  not  confront  us  on  every  hand  to  corrupt 
the  morals  of  the  youth.  Like  any  other  crimi- 
nal, the  liquor  vender  must  carry  on  his  nefarious 
business  in  secret." 

For  a  few  years  past  Mark  had  labored  and 
studied  beyond  his  strength.  His  physician  had 
advised  him  for  some  time  to  rest,  and  take  a 
short  trip  into  some  of  the  border  states  or  terri- 
tories. After  Guy's  sad  death,  Mark  was  pros- 
trated from  a  fever  doubtless  produced  by  the 


THE   WORST    FOE. 

shock  and  the  wasted  condition  of  his  system. 
His  employers  counseled  together  and  by  the 
advise  of  his  physicians  it  was  determined  to  send 
him  away.  Mark  was  an  exemplary  young  man, 
and  had  a  host  of  friends.  All  of  them  joined 
his  relatives  and  employers  in  urging  him  to  take 
a  tour  in  the  great  West.  Pauline  and  his  sister 
were  perhaps  the  strongest  in  their  solicitations. 
A  party  of  sportsmen  were  going  to  Iowa,  and 
he  joined  them.  When  they  were  ready  to  re- 
turn, he  concluded  to  go  still  farther  west,  and 
wended  his  journey  to  Colorado.  While  living 
among  the  mountains,  he  met  Fred  Snow,  who 
persuaded  him  to  go  with  him  to  his  home  in 
Kansas.  Mark,  having  decided  to  go  on  the 
picnic  excursion,  set  himself  about  writing  letters 
to  Maria  and  Pauline.  His  letters  were  lengthy 
epistles,  for  he  had  much  to  tell.  The  wonders  of 
the  West  were  new  to  him,  and  he  described  the 
magnificent  scenery  with  a  glow  of  enthusiasm. 
"I  hardly  expected  to  come  here,"  he  wrote, 
"but  I  have  been  fully  repaid  for  this  visit.  This 
is  a  beautiful  country,  the  towns  are  new,  healthy 
and  moral,  without  the  debasing  rum  holes  to 
delude  and  degrade  the  good  people  here.  When 
you  write,  try  to  send  me  the  address  of  the 
Misses  Hammond,  and  I  will  endeavor  to  hunt 
them  up." 

While  Mark  was  writing,  his  new  found  friend 
was  interesting  himself  in  his  cause.    Two  young 


THE   WORST    FOE.  315 

ladies  were  seated  on  a  rustic  bench  beneath  a 
large  shade  tree,  and  Snow  had  joined  them. 
One  of  the  young  ladies  was  bright  and  fair,  with 
a  pleasant  smile  and  winning  way.  The  other, 
about  the  same  age,  was  dark  and  beautiful,  with 
an  air  of  dignity  which  repelled  strangers  and 
welcomed  friends.  When  Fred  joined  them, 
they  all  at  once  began  talking  of  the  morrow. 

"We  are  going  to  have  a  capital  time,  but 
there  is  one  favor  I  want  you  to  grant,  Miss 
Lillie, "  said  Fred. 

'  'I  grant  a  favor  ?  "  she  asked,  her  eyes  grow- 
ing round  with  surprise.  ."Of  course,  if  I  can, 
I  will — what  is  the  favor  ?  " 

"Take  a  seat  in  our  carriage,  and  let  your  sis- 
ter ride  with  Mr.  Templeton. " 

"Oh,  no,  Mr.  Snow.  Much  as  I  would  like 
to  accommodate  you,  I  could  not  think  of  doing 
that."  Her  companions  laughed,  and  the  other 
young  lady  whose  name  was  Ida  Frost,  said : 

"Why  not  ride  with  us,  Lillie,  just  this  once. 
Of  course  we  know  that  you  love  your  sister  and 
would  like  to  be  in  her  company  ;  but  this  is  an 
extra  occasion — let  Mr.  Templeton  have  the 
pleasure  of  her  company.  You  know  it  would 
make  him  extraordinarily  happy,  for  much  as  he 
likes  you,  Lillie,  this  is  a  case  where  two  is  better 
company  than  three." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  Lillie  answered  with 
piquancy  that  was  pleasing.  '  'When  I  am  along 


316  THE  WORST   FOE. 

I  do  all  the  talking,  and  Mr.  Templeton  can  study 
the  beauties  of  nature  undisturbed.  If  he  were 
with  Deena,  he  would  have  more  than  half  the 
talking  to  do  himself." 

"He  can  do  it,  never  fear,"  broke  in  Fred. 

"Now,  Mr.  Snow,  why  do  you  want  me  to 
ride  in  your  carriage?  I  believe  there  is  a  con- 
spiracy on  foot." 

"I  will  admit  the  truth.  When  I  was  among^ 
the  mountains,  I  formed  the  acquaintance  of  an 
excellent  young  fellow.  He  was  a  little  quiet  at 
first,  but  really  entertaining  when  I  drew  him 
into  conversation.  I  had  this  excursion  in  view 
when  I  persuaded  him  to  accompany  me  home. 
He  is  a  young  man  about  my  own  age,  and  he, 
you,  Ida  and  I,  would  make  a  very  pleasant 
quartette. ' ' 

"It  is  a  very  nice  little  plan,  I  must  admit, 
but  I  cannot  think  of  giving  up  my  place  in  Mr. 
Templeton's  carriage." 

When  Fred  and  Ida  went  away,  Lillie  entered 
her  own  house.  Deena  was  absent  and  Lillie 
spread  the  cloth  and  prepared  the  supper  for  her- 
self and  sister.  As  she  was  busy  with  her  work, 
she  ruminated : 

'  'Of  course  it  would  give  Mr.  Templeton  great 
pleasure  to  have  a  ride  alone  with  Deena,  and 
Deena  thinks  a  great  deal  of  him,  though  she  is 
so  distant.  I  cannot  understand  her.  I 
I  will  ask  her  when  she  comes." 


THE   WORST   FOE.  317 

But  when  she  did  come,  Lillie  told  her  tea  was 
ready,  and  she  hurried  Deena  into  the  neat  little 
dining  room,  and  soon  forgot  the  subject.  Lil- 
lie's  tongue  rattled  away  at  a  rapid  rate  as  only  a 
merry  girl's  can. 

"I  want  you  to  taste  my  pears,  Deena,  "she 
said.  "I  think  they  are  just  as  nice  as  can  be. 
I  thought  I  would  never  learn  preserving,  but  I 
guess  I  will  make  a  success  of  it  yet." 

From  this  the  conversation  branched  off  into 
house-cleaning,  preserving,  and  canning  fruit, 
then  drifted  off  to  plants,  birds,  books  and  schools, 
but  not  once  was  the  name  of  Mr.  Templeton 
mentioned.  The  matter  had  either  slipped  from 
Lillie's  mind,  or  she  was  afraid  of  wounding 
Deena's  feelings. 

The  next  morning  when  Fred  Snow's  carriage 
drove  up,  Lillie  went  to  the  door  expecting  to 
see  a  stranger  seated  by  Fred's  side,  but  no  one 
was  there. 

She  cared  nothing  for  this  stranger,  and  still 
she  could  not  but  have  a  little  curiosity  concern- 
ing him.  Who  was  he,  and  what  was  he  like  ? 
When  she  was  with  Mr.  Templeton  and  her  sis- 
ter driving  to  the  picnic,  she  told  them  of  the 
stranger  of  whom  Mr.  Snow  had  spoken.  It  was 
very  little  she  knew,  for  she  could  not  even  tell 
his  name.  Mr.  Templeton  listened  very  atten- 
tively, only  saying  when  she  paused  for  breath : 

"Indeed!" 


THE   WORST    FOE. 

After  their  arrival  at  the  picnic  grounds,  and  the 
baskets  were  stowed  away,  Deena  was  sitting  by 
Ida's  side,  when  Fred  Snow,  throwing  himself 
down  on  the  grass  before  them,  said  : 

"I  suppose  Miss  Lillie  told  you  about  our  new 
guest." 

"No,  I  think  not." 

"I  met  a  young  gentleman  last  week  while 
among  the  mountains,  and  invited  him  to  come 
home  with  me.  I  wanted  him  to  see  our  beauti- 
ful country  and  become  acquainted  with  our  peo- 
ple, and  so  decided  that  we  would  pass  a  day  in 
the  country.  Here  he  is,  waiting  for  us." 

As  he  finished  speaking,  there  came  up  a 
young  gentleman  with  manly  form  and  dark  eyes, 
who  bowed  and  smiled.  Deena  Hammond 
thought  there  was  something  familiar  in  his  man- 
ner, and  when  Mr.  Snow  introduced  him  as  his 
friend  Mr.  Day,  her  heart  gave  a  great  bound 
and  stood  still.  Mark  was  also  a  little  bewildered 
when  introduced  to  the  Misses  Hammond.  As 
the  gay  young  folks  began  talking,  Mark  asked 
himself : 

'  'Can  that  lady  be  Miss  Deena  Hammond.  If 
it  is,  she  of  course  knows  all  about  poor  Guy.  I 
believe  I'll  ask  her  if  she  once  lived  in  Staunton. " 
He  turned  to  look  at  her,  but  her  face  was  averted. 
For  a  few  moments  he  tried  to  catch  her  eye  but 
in  vain.  '  'This  lady  is  really  better  looking  than 
was  Deena  Hammond." 

He  tried  to  draw  Miss  Hammond  into  conver- 


THE   WORST   FOE.  319 

sation,  but  she  seemed  averse  to  him,  and  Mark 
decided  not  to  press  his  notice  upon  her.  He 
directed  his  attentions  to  Miss  Ida,  whom  he 
found  a  most  agreeable  companion. 

During  the  day  Mark  was  introduced  to  the 
entire  company,  making  a  favorable  impression 
on  all  save  Deena  Hammond,  who  sighed  and 
said  to  herself: 

"Why  does  a  Day  again  cross  my  path  ?  Am 
I  doomed  to  have  my  sky  darkened  forever  by 
some  one  of  that  name  ?  " 

It  seemed  a  relief  to  promenade  with  Mr. 
Templeton,  and  somehow  she  found  herself  in- 
voluntarily clinging  to  him  whenever  Mark  came 
near.  Why  should  she  shrink  from  Mark  Day  ? 
Surely  there  was  not  a  more  innocent  young  man 
in  all  the  country.  Mark  and  Lillie,  Fred  and 
Ida  formed  a  happy  little  group  to  themselves, 
and  as  the  former  couple  finally  took  a  little  stroll 
about  the  pic-nic  camp,  Ida  whispered  to  Fred : 

"I  hope  Mr.  Day  will  not  decide  to  take  Lillie 
away.  You  will  be  to  blame  if  he  does." 

"How  quickly  girls  jump  at  conclusions!  What 
would  Mark  and  Lillie  think  if  they  knew  of 
those  dark  suspicions  ?  " 

With  a  deep  blush,  Ida  responded : 

"It  is  you  who  jump  at  conclusions.  I  only- 
used  the  subjunctive  if,  and  you  talk  as  if  it  was 
I  instead  of  yourself,  who  had  been  maturing 
plans. " 


32O  THE   WORST   FOE. 

They  soon  joined  their  companions,  and  the 
four  formed  a  merry  group  during  the  remainder 
of  the  day.  Deena  went  home  in  company  with 
Mr.  Templeton,  Lillie  having  been  prevailed 
upon  to  ride  back  in  the  carriage  with  Ida,  Fred 
and  Mark  Day.  On  their  return,  Mark  learned 
from  Lillie  that  they  once  lived  in  Staunton.  He 
was  surprised  that  when  she  learned  he  was  from 
the  same  town,  that  she  asked  no  questions  about 
the  people  there,  and  in  fact  she  seemed  very 
anxious  to  avoid  discussing  questions  that  would 
be  likely  to  revive  memories  of  childhood.  Lil- 
lie reached  her  humble  home  all  aglow  with 
pleasure  and  enthusiasm. 

"Oh,  Deena,  I  never  had  such  a  day  of  fun," 
she  cried  when  she  met  her  sister.  : '  Mr.  Day 
is  just  splendid.  He  is  from  Staunton,  and  is 
well  acquainted  with  your  friend  Pauline,  and 
seems  to  like  her  just  as  well  as  you  do.  He  and 
Fred,  and  Ida  and  I,  are  going  off  to-morrow  to 
have  a  picnic  by  ourselves.  Fred  is  so  glad 
that  my  school  doesn't  commence  for  three  weeks. 
I  am  too,  for  we  will  all  have  a  gay  time  until  it 
opens."  Her  eyes  sparkled  with  anticipated 
happiness.  Deena  noticed  it,  and  it  was  the  sig- 
nal for  a  great  struggle  in  her  breast.  Should 
she  dash  the  hopes  and  happiness  of  poor  Lillie 
to  the  ground,  or  must  she  wait,  trusting  in 
Heaven  to  teach  her  that  no  Day  was  to  be  trusted? 
Long  after  she  had  retired,  Deena  Hammond 


THE   WORST  FOE.  321 

tossed  on  her  sleepless  couch  asking  herself  what 
she  should  do  under  the  circumstances. 

That  evening  Fred  Snow  was  astounded  to 
learn  that  Mark  had  met  the  Misses  Hammond 
before.  He  told  of  first  meeting  Lilli«  when  she 
was  a  little  prattling  child. 

"Why,  that  is  quite  a  romance,"  cried  Fred 
when  he  had  learned  all,  '  'and  you  met  her  here 
after  so  many  years  when  you  never  expected  to 
see  her  again." 

Lillie  Hammond  was  mingled  with  the  dreams 
of  Mark  Day  on  that  night.  He  also  saw  the 
cold  expression  and  strange  frown  on  Deena's  face, 
which  had  puzzled  him  so.  She  seemed  to  repel 
him,  and  one  glance  of  her  eyes  chilled  him. 
Every  time  Lillie  came  floating  toward  him  in 
his  dreams,  Deena  Hammond,  who  seemed  jeal- 
ously guarding  her  sister  sprang  between  them, 
and  left  only  her  own  sad,  white  face  before  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

LILLIE     AND      MARK. 

"  'Oh,  what! '  the  voice  enquired  again, 

"Hath  wrought  this  change,  so  sad  and  strange,'  " 

TT7WO  happy  weeks  for  Mark  and  Lillie  had 
-*-  passed.  Mark  spoke  of  returning  home  in 
a  few  days,  and  noticed  with  some  degree  of 
pleasure  the  almost  imperceptible  shadow  on 
Lillie's  face  when  he  mentioned  the  subject  of 
his  departure.  She  was  arranging  a  button-hole 
bouquet,  and  Mark  complimented  her  taste.  At 
his  request  she  pinned  it  on  his  coat.  Their  con- 
versation was  far  more  interesting  to  themselves 
than  it  would  be  to  the  reader,  so  we  will 
omit  it. 

Deena  Hammond,  who  was  watching  them 
from  the  latticed,  vine-covered  window,  heard 
every  word  they  spoke,  and  noticed  with  alarm 
those  tender  glances  which  spoke  much  more 
than  words.  A  look  of  distress  settled  on  her 
face,  and  when  they  went  away  to  Ida's  house, 
she  said  to  herself: 

"My  duty  is  very  plain  now.  For  two  weeks 
I  have  put  off  saying  what  I  ought  to  have  said 

322 


THE   WORST    FOE.  323 

at  the  beginning  of  this  acquaintance.  I  knew 
it — I  felt  it  from  the  time  they  first  met,  that  their 
friendship  would  become  something  more.  He 
talks  fair — so  did  the  other ;  but  he  would  stoop  to 
anything  to  accomplish  his  purpose.  I  must 
watch  him.  My  precious  Lillie  shall  not  suffer 
as  I  have." 

When  Lillie  Hammond  returned  that  evening, 
she  was  not  a  little  alarmed  at  the  paleness  of  her 
sister's  face. 

"Deena,  are  you  sick?"  she  cried,  as  she  gazed 
at  her.  "What  can  I  do  for  you?  I  have  not 
noticed  this  before,  but  I  expect  you  have  been 
ill  all  along.  Let  me  go  for  a  doctor." 

"No,  no,  Lillie,  a  doctor  couldn't  cure  me," 
said  Deena,  laying  her  hand  on  the  shoulder  of 
her  impulsive  sister.  "I  am  troubled,  Lillie. 
Never  under  any  circumstances  consent  to  a  mat- 
ter of  secrecy."  Lillie  Hammond  fixed  her  as- 
tonished eyes  on  her  sister's  face,  and  was  dumb 
with  wonder.  Deena,  strangely  agitated,  con- 
tinued: "I  thought  because  I  did  nothing  dis- 
honorable, that  secrecy  would  be  romantic,  but 
oh,  I  have  paid  most  dearly  for  my  folly.  Life 
has  for  years  been  a  burden.  When  we  came 
out  here  in  this  unknown  world,  and  so  many 
friends  sprang  up  about  us,  I  thought  the  past 
forgotten — buried  forever,  but  it  has  followed 
me — I  will  never  be  free."  She  ceased  speak- 
ing, and  sinking  back  on  the  sofa,  buried  her 


324  THE   WORST   FOE. 

face  in  her  hands.  Lillie  could  only  stand  and 
stare  at  her  sister  in  amazement,  and  wonder 
what  was  the  matter  with  her.  After  a  few  mo- 
ments Deena  seemed  to  partially  recover  herself, 
and  in  a  voice  strangely  calm  she  said : 

"Lillie,  has  Mark  Day  said  any  thing  to  you  of 
the  future?" 

"What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Lillie. 

"Has  he — has  he  said  he  was  coming  back,  or 
asked  permission  to  write  to  you  ?  " 

"No,  he  has  done  neither.  The  tone  of  his 
conversation  has  always  been  just  the  same  as 
when  you  were  by." 

For  a  few  moments  Deena  sat  gravely  looking 
down  upon  the  floor.  Her  brow  was  contracted, 
and  beyond  a  doubt  there  was  a  great  struggle 
going  on  within  her  breast.  At  last  she  raised 
her  head  and  asked : 

"Lillie,  don't  you  like  him  ?  " 

The  girl  blushed,  and  after  a  few  moments  she 
answered : 

"Yes,  just  the  least  bit,  but  a  girl  should  nev- 
er give  h^r  love  until  it  is  asked.  He  has  never 
spoken  to  me  yet  on  the  subiect." 

"Suppose  he  should?  " 

"I'm  afraid- -afraid — I  cannot  exactly  tell." 

"I  think  I  can  tell.  You  like  Mark  Day  now ; 
he  is  a  fine  looking  young  man  with  pleasing  ad- 
dress and  winning  ways.  You  could  easily  learn 
to  love  him  if  he  asked  you-  could  you  not  >" 


THE    WORST   FOE.  325 

"Well,"  said  Lillie  deliberately,  while  a  roguish 
twinkle  appeared  in  her  eyes,  '  'I  guess  indications 
point  that  way." 

Though  she  had  spOKen  ^ghtly  of  the  matter, 
her  crimson  face  and  trembling  form  bore  evi- 
dence to  the  truthfulness  of  her  statement. 
Lillie  made  a  struggle  to  conceal  her  emo- 
tions from  her  sister,  but  it  was  all  in  vain. 
Deena  gazed  at  her  blushing  sister  a  moment, 
and  said ; 

"Lillie — Lillie,  it  must  not  be." 

Slowly  and  solemnly  as  if  about  to  engage  in 
some  serious  undertaking,  Deena  rose  and  left 
the  room.  She  was  gone  but  a  few  moments 
when  she  returned,  carrying  a  heavy  wooden 
casket  which  contained  all  the  relics  of  the  fam- 
ily. This  casket  had  been  the  greatest  curiosity 
to  Lillie,  simply  because  she  knew  not  what 
it  contained.  Every  chest,  box  and  drawer 
she  had  ransacked  through,  time  and-  again, 
but  that  small  casket  had  ever  been  a  sealed 
mystery  to  her.  When  quite  small  she  had 
in  vain  appealed  to  Deena  to  open  it,  and 
had  at  last  come  to  regard  it  as  a  Pandora's  box 
which  was  never  to  be  opened. 

When  Deena  took  her  place  by  her  side  with 
the  mysterious  casket  on  her  knee,  Lillie  hoped 
that  her  long  pent  up  curiosity  would  be  satisfied. 
She  said  nothing,  for  she  was  already  aware  how 
useless  it  was  for  her  to  appeal  to  her  sister. 


326  THE  WORST  FOE. 

With  wide  open  eyes  she  watched  her  sister  un- 
lock the  casket,  and  raise  the  lid.  Only  some 
bundles  of  old  letters  were  visible,  but  when 
Deena  removed  these,  there  remained  a  large 
official  envelope  at  the  bottom.  It  was  unsealed, 
and  Deena  taking  it  out,  drew  from  it  a  legal 
looking  document  which  she  placed  in  Lillie's 
hand,  saying : 

"Read  that,  and  you  will  understand  all." 

When  Lillie  had  examined  the  document,  she 
threw  her  arms  about  poor  Deena's  neck  and 
sobbed : 

"Poor,  poor,  sister,  how  could  you  keep  this 
secret  all  to  yourself  for  so  many  years  ?  Why 
did  you  not  tell  me  before  ?" 

"For  our  brother's  sake  I  was  bound  to  keep 
it,  and  had  not  Mark  Day  come  here,  this  secret 
would  never  have  been  revealed  even  to  you." 

"But  when  George  died,  why  did  you  not  tell 
me?" 

"It  would  have  done  no  good,  given  me  pain, 
and  brought  reproach  on  the  memory  of  George. 
But  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  now,  nothing  shall 
be  kept  from  you." 

With  bowed  head  and  trembling  form,  Lillie 
listened  to  the  story  of  her  sister's  wrongs. 
Midnight  came  and  found  them  sitting  very 
quietly,  the  one  telling,  the  other  listening. 
Deena's  face  was  like  marble  as  she  continued 
to  unveil  the  past. 

******* 


THE  WORST  FOE. 

"I  guess  I  will  be  honorable  in  this  affair," 
said  Mark  Day  to  himself,  as  he  sat  alone  in  his 
room  in  the  hotel.  "Lillie  is  an  orphan  and 
depends  on  her  older  sister  to  take  the  place  of 
both  mother  and  father,  and  much  as  I  dread  the 
freezing  looks  of  Deena  Hammond,  I  will  get  her 
permission  before  I  mention  a  correspondence  to 
Lillie.  Ugh  !  I  dread  Deena  Hammond  as  much 
as  I  used  to  dread  Bill  Barnes.  But  if  I  succeed 
as  well  with  her  as  I  did  with  Bill,  I  shall  be 
happy."  Mark  had  formed  a  habit  of  thinking 
aloud,  especially  on  matters  which  he  wished  to 
discuss  with  himself. 

Next  morning  he  went  to  the  little  home  of 
Deena  and  Lillie  Hammond.  The  former  met  him 
with  a  deeper  gravity  than  he  had  ever  noticed 
before.  She  invited  him  into  the  little  parlor, 
where  he  sat  for  several  moments  trying  to 
muster  up  courage  to  mention  the  object  of  his 
visit.  He  had  felt  from  the  very  first  that  for 
some  unaccountable  reason  Deena  Hammond 
had  an  increasing  dislike  for  him.  But  he  was 
desperate  now  and  determined  to  fight  his  way 
through  boldly.  When  he  had  asked  the  privilege 
of  corresponding  with  her  sister,  Deena  fixed  her 
eyes  on  him  for  a  moment,  and  asked  : 

"Will  you  not  do  so  any  way  whether  I  con- 
sent or  not?" 

Mark  was  confused  by  this  direct  question. 
He  had  to  think  twice  before  he  answered,  but 
mastering  himself  he  answered/ 


328  THE  WORST  FOE. 

"I  shall  be  honorable,  Miss  Hammond.  I  will 
abide  by  your  decision. " 

Deena  was  taken  by  surprise  at  the  candor  and 
manliness  of  Mark.  For  a  few  moments  she  was 
silent  and  then  she  said : 

"I  may  seem  rude,  very  rude,  Mr.  Day,  but  if 
the  mists  should  ever  clear  away,  you  will  not 
blame  me  for  guarding  Lillie's  happiness.  You 
are  both  young ;  your  friendship  will  keep  as  it 
is.  With  youth  and  hope  to  sustain  you,  you 
may  both  wait  until  the  dark  clouds  that  now 
obscure  the  sky  have  rolled  away." 

"I  will  roll  them  away  as  soon  as  possible. 
If  you  have  no  objection  I  would  like  to  call 
again  and  see  your  sister."  Deena  could  not 
refuse  one  who  seemed  so  honest,  truthful  and 
candid  ;  she  consented,  and  Mark  left,  but  it  was 
with  a  heavy  heart.  He  had  grown  to  love  Lillie 
Hammond,  and  her  sister's  aversion  to  him  was 
strange  and  unaccountable. 

Mark  made  Arthur  Templeton  his  confidant, 
and  was  taken  into  Arthur's  confidence  in  return. 
There  was  a  deep  mystery  behind  all  those  dark 
clouds,  they  very  well  knew,  and  both  agreed  to 
do  all  they  could  to  clear  it  away.  Arthur  was 
sanguine  that  all  would  yet  end  well,  and  though 
Mark,  like  most  young  lovers,  was  almost  on  the 
verge  of  despair,  he  resolved  to  do  all  in  his 
power  to  win  the  friendship  of  Deena  and  the 
hand  and  heart  of  Lillie  Hammond. 


THE    WORST    FOE.  329 

When  Mark  called  next  morning,  he  noted  a 
change  in  the  manner  ofLillie.  She  seemed 
frightened  at  the  sound  of  his  voice,  and  he 
found  her  trembling  and  apparently  avoid- 
ing him.  Mark  was  very  grave  himself.  Both 
Deena  and  Lillie  noticed  the  changed  demeanor 
of  the  youth,  and  especially  the  paleness  of  his 
face.  Deena  felt  that  she  had  wronged  Mark, 
when  she  remembered  how  well  Pauline  had 
spoken  of  him  in  her  letters.  But  she  reasoned 
with  her  wounded  conscience  that  she  could  not 
be  too  careful  in  guarding  her  sister's  happiness. 
When  Mark  bid  Deena  adieu,  he  said  he  hoped 
to  visit  them  again.  To  Lillie  he  said  : 

"Good  bye,  Miss  Lillie.  This  has  been  a 
very  pleasant  visit  to  me,  and  you  have  contrib- 
uted your  share  to  make  it  pleasant.  I  shall 
often  hear  from  you  through  our  mutual  friend, 
Mr.  Templeton." 

Lillie  had  never  known  since  her  childhood 
what  it  was  to  feel  lonely  until  Mark  had  left  the 
village.  It  seemed  that  the  day  following  his 
departure  would  never  end.  When  twilight 
came  she  seated  herself  on  the  porch.  Her  dog 
Carlo  came  to  her  side  and  began  caressing  her 
hand.  She  did  not  notice  him  until  he  lost 
patience  at  her  neglect  and  began  to  howl  dis- 
mally. 

"Go  get  your  ball,  Carlo,  and  we'll  have  a 
romp.  Go  like  a  good  dog  and  find  your  ball," 


33O  THE  WORST  FOE. 

He  started  off  with  a  yelp  of  delight,  his  laugh- 
ing eyes  expressing  his  pleasure.  The  ball  was 
found  and  Lillie  was  throwing  and  Carlo  catch- 
ing it,  when  Ida  Frost  came. 

"I  thought  you  would  be  lonesome,  so  I  came 
to  stay  awhile  with  you, "  she  said,  '  'but  you  seem 
to  be  enjoying  yourself,  I  wish  you  didn't  have 
to  go  away." 

'  'I  think  I  will  get  a  position  nearer  home  next 
time,"  said  Lillie,  laughing. 

"I'm  afraid  not,"  Ida  responded  with  much 
gravity.  "I'm  afraid  you  will  accept  a  position 
that  may  take  you  out  of  the  State.  It  is  as 
natural  for  you  to  be  a  Day,  Lillie,  as  it  is  for 
Frost  to  turn  to  Snow." 

Lillie  laughed  and  asked  her  to  come  into  the 
house.  The  subject  was  quickly  changed  and 
one  would  think  that  Mark  was  entirely  out  of 
the  girl's  mind. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

AROUSED     BY     LIVING     MEMORIES. 

"Thy  gifts,  thy  tables  are  within  my  brain, 
Full  charactered  wiih  ksting  memory, 

Which  shall  above  that  idle  rank  remain, 
Beyond  all  date,  even  to  eternity." 

— Shaketpeare.  . 

TN  a  well-furnished  room  in  San  Francisco  a 
•*•  young  man  was  sitting  alone.  It  was  an  early 
hour,  and  the  occupant  of  the  room  was  evi- 
dently an  early  riser.  His  features  bore 
marks  of  mental  industry,  and  severe 
battles  with  the  world  had  left  their 
traces  on  his  noble  brow.  Firmness  was 
expressed  in  every  lineament  of  that  smooth- 
ly-shaven face.  He  had  evidently  met  with 
temptation,  and  though  unhorsed  at  the  first 
tilt,  he  had  rallied  and  conquered  his  foe.  Daily 
papers  were  scattered  in  profusion  about  the 
room.  On  the  centre  table  lay  a  gold-clasped 
bible.  He  took  up  a  late  paper,  scanned  fiist 
the  financial  column,  then  the  current  news  and 
finally  the  political  column.  He  threw  the  paper 
down  and  looked  at  his  watch. 

"Fifteen  minutes  yet  till  breakfast,"  he  said 

Ml 


332  THE  WORST  FOE. 

to  himself.  "Now,  I  can  look  over  some  of 
those  papers  which  I  had  not  time  to  glance  at 
when  I  was  so  pressed  with  business." 

He  took  up  several  which  had  been  carefully 
folded  and  laid  away.  Seating  himself  near  the 
window  he  unfolded  one  and  began  to  read. 

"Hello,  what's  this?"  he  suddenly  cried,  fix- 
ing his  eyes  on  a  glaring  head  line,  "Suicide  in 
Staunton"  His  eyes  ran  down  the  long  column 
of  horror,  devouring  it  all  in  a  few  moments. 
Then  starting  up  with  hand  to  his  forehead,  he 
said  in  broken  sentences  : 

"Dr.  Guy  Denesmore — a  hard  drinker  for 
several  years — tried  to  reform — lived  a  sober 
life  for  a  year — six  months  ago  he  took  up  his 
old  habits  again  and  drank  harder  than  ever 
before—" 

He  stopped  and  began  walking  back  and  forth 
across  the  room.  Several  times  he  paused  and 
picked  up  the  paper  as  if  in  doubt  as  to  whether 
he  had  made  a  mistake  or  not.  Three  or  four 
times  he  read  it  all  over,  and  throwing  the  paper 
down,  began  again  in  broken  sentences : 

"The  family  destitute — that  must  be  newspa- 
per gossip.  Why  the  Denesmores  were  rich. 
No,  he  drank  hard  for  several  years,  and  it  may 
all  be  so  yet.  But  where  is  William  Strasmore  ? 
He  saved  others,  could  he  not  save  his  wife's 
brother  ?  Poor  Pauline,  will  not  this  break  her 
heart  ?  He  has  a  family,  and  they  are  in  desti 


THE  WORST  FOE.  333 

tute  circumstances.  Perhaps  I  can  now  repay 
some  of  the  debts  of  gratitude  I  owe  the  family. 
To  William  Strasmore  and  Pauline  I  owe  every- 
thing that  I  am.  I  will  go  back  to  that  place 
where  I  knew  so  much  humiliation  and  misery ; 
I  will  visit  the  graves  of  my  parents  and  sisters. 
That  I  will  meet  Ernest  Day  is  my  only  reason 
for  regretting  to  return  to  my  old  home.  I  feel 
that  if  I  have  an  evil  genius  on  earth,  it  is  he. 
"Ah,  Guy  Denesmore,"  he  finally  mused, 
"when  I  think  how  life  began  with  us  and  how 
it  has  ended  with  you,  I  am  more  astounded  at 
your  fall  than  my  own.  I  will  start  for  my  old 
home  just  as  soon  as  the  necessary  arrangements 
can  be  made."  With  these  thoughts  he  quitted 
the  room. 

Perhaps  the  reader  would  like  to  know  where 
George  Hammond  has  been  all  these  years  while 
his  friends  have  mourned  him  as  dead.  We  left 
him  faintly  knocking  at  the  door  of  faith  and 
asking  for  help.  Did  ever  mortal  knock  in  vain  ? 
In  Omaha,  George  found  that  temptations  beset 
him.  Once  he  entered  a  saloon,  raised  the  glass 
to  his  lips  ;  he  paused,  set  it  down,  looked  at  the 
faces  of  those  present,  thinking  to  himself: 

"I  left  old  associates  that  I  might  be  able  to 
break  off  this  habit,  and  free  myself  from  this 
bondage.  Strasmore  advised  me  to  cast  my  lot 
among  different  people."  He  could  bear  these 
reflections  no  longer,  but  pushing  back  the  glass^ 


334  THE  WORST  FOE. 

he  hurried  from  the  saloon  never  to  enter  anoth- 
er. Did  he  have  any  more  desire  to  drink? 
Only  those  who  are  cursed  with  burning,  crav- 
ing appetites  know  what  it  is  to  resist  the 
tempting  glass.  That  consuming  thirst  which 
water  cannot  satisfy,  that  morbid  appetite 
for  strong  drink,  is  the  most  terrible  agony  that 
suffering  humanity  is  ever  called  on  to  endure. 
George  still  knocked,  though  timidly,  at  the  door 
of  faith.  He  wrote  to  his  family  that  he  would 
go  to  Denver,  Colorado,  the  next  day  after  writ- 
ing that  letter,  and  they  were  to  write  him  there. 
By  the  same  mail  he  sent  a  letter  to  Strasmorein 
which  he  confessed  his  temptation  and  his  resis- 
tance. 

In  Denver  he  obtained  a  position  as  clerk  in 
a  retail  store.  His  industry  and  honesty  soon 
won  the  confidence  of  his  employers.  He  had 
been  here  but  a  lew  weeks  when  he  was 
prostrated  with  a  lingering  fever.  The  physicians 
did  not  consider  him  dangerously  ill,  but 
thought  the  fever  must  run  its  course.  When 
he  was  able  to  read  there  were  several  letters 
awaiting  him.  The  contents  of  these  proved 
a  terrible  blow  to  George.  A  serious  relapse 
set  in,  and  for  weeks  very  little  hopes  were 
entertained  for  his  recovery.  For  days  his  life 
seemed  suspended  by  a  thread ;  a  slight  change 
for  the  better  at  last  came.  Very  slowly  he  was 
brought  back  to  life,  and  to  the  full  realization 
that  all  his  friends  were  gone. 


THE    WORST   FOE.  335 

"I  am  alone  in  the  world  !  Why  could  I  not 
have  gone  with  them  ?  "  As  the  days  grew  into 
weeks,  he  gained  friends,  and  found,  at  last  his  lot 
cast  among  the  right  kind  of  people.  The  promis- 
es of  his  Savior  brought  peace  to  this  wandering, 
erring  man.  Disappointed  with  earth,  he  contem- 
plated with  joy  a  life  hereafter.  This  brought 
forcibly  to  his  mind  the  knowledge  that  he  had 
abused  his  privileges  ;  but  he  felt  the  conscious- 
ness within  that  his  sins  were  forgiven.  Slow- 
ly he  recovered  strength,  and  with  it  a  new  hold 
on  life.  He  had  been  very  economical  since 
leaving  Staunton,  and  had  accumulated  consider- 
able money,  which  was  to  defray  the  expense  of 
his  father  and  family  to  the  West.  All  this  was 
spent  during  his  illness,  and  when  he  was  once 
more  able  to  leave  his  bed,  he  not  only  found 
himself  penniless,  but  with  a  heavy  debt  hanging 
over  his  head.  There  was  no  one  now  at  home  to 
whom  to  write,  so  he  lived  a  year  or  two  in 
Denver,  and  a  better  opening  at  San  Francisco 
being  offered  to  him,  he  accepted  it,  and  became 
cashier  in  a  bank.  He  had  not  only  found  ex- 
cellent remunerative  employment,  but  that  peace 
which  passeth  understanding.  George  Hammond 
was  numbered  among  the  redeemed,  and  lived 
in  blessed  anticipation  of  a  better  life  in  the 
world  to  come.  While  preparing  to  return  to 
the  home  of  his  childhood,  he  thought : 

"Guy — noble,  generous  Guy  —  so  generous 


336  THE    WORST   FOE. 

that  he  would  not  raise  his  voice  in  opposition  to 
a  man  selling  intoxicating  drinks,  had  sanctioned 
the  evil  by  his  silence,  to  his  own  destruction, 
soul  and  body.  But  William,  so  powerful  to  save 
from  woe,  where  was  he,  and  why  did  he  not 
snatch  Guy  from  perdition?  " 

3)C  *  #  *  %  #  * 

The  very  night  that  Lillie  Hammond  spent 
sleeplessly  tossing  on  the  bed,  partly  on  her 
sister's  account,  and  partly  on  her  own,  Mark 
Day  was  on  his  way  home,  his  mind  busy 
with  painful  and  perplexing  thoughts.  When  Mark 
reached  Staunton,  he  was  met  at  the  depot  by  a 
physician,  who  informed  him  that  his  brother 
was  dangerously  ill.  He  went  immediately  to 
Ernest  Day's  residence,  the  old  homestead,  and 
there  remained  at  his  brother's  side  day  and 
night  for  a  fortnight.  One  evening  a  friend  of 
Mark  called  to  enquire  after  Ernest's  condition, 
and  told  Mark  that  George  Hammond,  whom 
they  had  all  supposed  dead,  had  suddenly  turned 
up.  Mark  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  see  him, 
and  his  friend  promised  to  remain  in  his  place  for 
a  few  hours  and  see  that  the  nurse  did  his  duty, 
and  assist  him  as  best  he  could. 

"Very  well,"  said  Mark,  "I  will  call  on  Maria 
and  Miss  Denesmore,  and  if  Hammond  is  in 
town,  he  will  be  very  liable  to  call  there. " 

When  he  reached  the  cottage,  Maria  had 
gone  to  bed,  and  Pauline  and  the  little  girl  were 


THE  WORST  FOE.  337 

in  the  sitting  room.  Little  Pauline  ran  to  her 
uncle  Mark's  arms,  and  he  held  her  on  his  knee, 
while  he  told  Pauline  of  his  journey  west  and 
Ernest's  illness.  The  child  in  his  arms  had  gone 
to  sleep,  and  he  had  laid  it  on  the  sofa,  when  the 
door-bell  rang.  Mark  answered  it,  anc1  admitted 
a  tall  gentleman. 

"I  believe  Dr.  Denesmore's  family  lives  here," 
said  the  stranger,  interrogatively. 

"Yes  sir,  will  you  walk  in  ?  " 

"Thank  you."  Stepping  inside,  he  added, 
"My  name  is  Hammond." 

"Can  it  be  possible  that  this  is  George  Ham- 
mond," cried  Pauline,  who  had  followed  Mark 
into  the  hallway. 

"It  is,  and  if  I  am  not  mistaken  I  have  met 
you  before." 

"You  have.  I  am  Pauline  Denesmore, "  she 
answered,  extending  her  hand  and  welcoming  the 
wanderer  back. 

"Pauline  Denesmore,"  he  said  almost  incred- 
ulously, as  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  her. 

"Yes  sir,  I  am  Pauline  Denesmore,"  she  an- 
swered with  a  deep  drawn  sigh,  "Time  has 
wrought  changes  in  us  all.  You  have  changed 
for  the  better,  I  for  the  worse. 

"Not  for  the  worse,  Miss  Denesmore,"  said 
George  Hammond  after  a  moment's  silent  strug- 
gle. "Your  circumstances  have  materially 
changed,  and  though  you  have  suffered  greatly, 

(22) 


338  THE  WORST  FOE. 

your  trials  have  made  you  purer  and  better." 

Pauline  now  informed  George  Hammond  that 
this  young  man  who  stood  by  them  was  Mark 
Day,  the  mischievous  boy  they  once  had  known. 
George  could  hardly  believe  it,  though  he  thought 
he  could  discern  the  old  mischievous  twinkle  still 
in  his  eyes.  It  was  not  until  they  had  been  seated 
for  some  minutes  in  the  neat  little  sitting-room, 
that  Pauline  in  tones  very  low  and  sad,  asked  if 
he  had  heard  about  Guy. 

"I  read  an  account  of  it  in  the  papers  about 
two  weeks  ago." 

A  look  of  displeasure  came  into  George 
Hammond's  face  when  he  was  introduced  to 
Mark  Day.  Mark  noticed  it  himself,  but  realiz- 
ing that  he  was  Lillie's  brother,  he  strove  to 
melt  that  icy  reserve.  When  Mark  at  last  said 
that  he  had  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mr.  Ham- 
mond's sisters  but  a  few  days  before,  George 
bounded  to  his  feet  as  if  he  had  seen  a  ghost,  and 
cried : 

"What!  my  sisters  !  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"I  mean  that  I  visited  your  sisters  Modenia 
and  Lillie  only  a  few  days  ago." 

"You  must  be  crazy, "  cried  the  amazed  George 
Hammond.  "My  sisters  are  dead.  They  have 
been  dead  for  years." 

"You  are  deceived,  Mr.  Hammond.  Your 
parents  are  dead,  but  your  sisters  are  alive  and 
well,"  said  Mark  earnestly.  "I  rather  suspect 


THE    WORST    FOE.  339 

that  you  have  been  misinformed  or  imposed  on 
concerning  your  family." 

After  a  few  moments,  during  which  time 
George  Hammond  sat  trying  to  collect  his 
wits,  he  said : 

"I  received  letters  bearing  Guy  Densmore's 
and  William  Strasmore's  signatures,  saying  that 
my  parents  and  sisters  were  dead.  It  was  not 
in  their  nature  to  deceive.  Poor  Deena,  poor 
little  Lillie — I  only  hope  I  may  be  able  to  sift 
this  thing  to  the  bottom.  Where  is  Ernest 
Day?"  He  fixed  his  eyes  almost  fiercely  on 
Mark  as  he  spoke. 

"At  home  very  sick.  I  hope,  Mr.  Hammond, 
you  may  not  only  be  able  to  find  out  who 
wronged  you,  but  also  his  motive.  If  I  can 
be  of  any  service  I  am  at  your  command," 
said  Mark. 

Both  his  hearers  looked  at  him  in  wonder  and 
admiration,  and  a  few  moments  later  he  left  the 
house  to  return  to  that  sinful  brother  who  was 
perhaps  nearing  the  end.  Mark  believed  he 
had  found  a  clew  and  intended  to  follow  it  up 
until  he  was  satisfied. 

"That  is  Guy's  little  girl,"  said  Pauline, 
pointing  to  the  sleeping  child.  George  bent  over 
the  innocent  sleeper,  pressed  a  kiss  on  its  cheek 
and  murmured : 

"Guy's  child ! — I  think  I  should  have  known 
it  had  you  not  said  so.  She  has  her  father's 
features." 


34O  THE   WORST    FOE. 

It  was  late  when  George  left  the  cottage. 
He  had  given  Pauline  a  brief  sketch  of  his  event- 
ful life  since  he  left  Staunton.  She  in  turn  had 
related  her  own  sad  history  and  they  were 
mutual  sharers  in  each  other's  grief.  Pauline 
looked  forward  with  as  much  joy  to  the  family 
reunion  as  did  George  himself.  George  was 
at  first  inclined  to  set  out  at  once  for  the  village 
in  Kansas  where  his  sisters  lived  ;  but  Pauline 
prevailed  on  him  to  let  her  write  a  letter  to  them 
gradually  breaking  the  good  news  to  Deena,  and 
she  and  George  were  to  follow  the  letter  in  a  few 
days. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

THE     DEATH     BED     CONFESSION. 

''But  what  will  not  ambition  and  revenge 

Descend  to  ?     Who  aspires  must  down  as  low 

As  high  he  soared  *  *  *  Revenge,  at  first  though  sweet, 

Bitter  ere  long,  back  on  itself  recoils." 

—Afiltvt. 

TT  ARK'S  brain  was  very  active.  A  word  or  a 
J  «•*•  look  was  sure  to  give  him  a  truthful  presenti- 
ment. When  George  asked : 

"Where  is  Ernest  Day?"  Like  a  flash  Mark 
recalled  Deena's  dislike  for  himself,  the  decep- 
tion practiced  on  herself  and  brother,  and  the 
conviction  settled  on  his  mind  that  they  both 
suspected  the  cunning,  crafty  Ernest  Day  as 
the  author  of  much  of  their  misery.  He  knew 
that  Ernest  only  served  himself,  and  that  for 
some  reason  he  must  have  wanted  the  Ham- 
monds out  of  the  way.  He  determined  to  know 
what  that  reason  was. 

When  he  returned  to  the  bedside  of  Ernest  he 
found  him  nervous  and  restless.  There  had  never 
been  much  fraternal  affection  between  these 
brothers.  Their  paths  had  been  so  dissimilar, 
and  there  had  been  so  little  in  common  between 

341 


342  THE    WORST    FOE. 

them  that  they  had  been  little  better  than  stran- 
gers. Mark's  morality  (it  could  scarce  be  called 
religion)  made  him  an  object  of  ridicule  in  his 
brother's  eyes.  But  when  Ernest  was  sick  and 
suffering,  and  needed  the  watchful  care  of  a 
brother,  Mark  forgot  all  except  his  duty  as  a 
brother.  Ernest  soon  came  to  expect  none  but 
Mark  to  administer  to  his  wants.  When 
in  his  fretful,  peevish  state  he  found  fault  with 
Mark,  Mark  joined  him  -and  found  fault  with 
himself.  Ernest  found  he  could  accomplish  noth- 
ing by  grumbling,  so  he  tried  the  plan  of  ex- 
acting more  than  any  person  could  accomplish. 
But  Mark  was  so  good  natured  and  received  his 
scolding  with  such  good  grace,  that  Ernest  at 
last  ceased  to  complain  and  was  passive  in  the 
hands  of  his  brother  and  the  doctor.  This  was 
the  first  time  Mark  had  left  his  post  of  duty  since 
he  volunteered  to  act  as  nurse.  Ernest  was  toss- 
ing and  groaning  when  Mark  returned,  and  the 
moment  he  entered,  the  sick  man  bade  his  broth- 
er's substitute  go  away.  Mark  followed  the  man 
into  the  hall  and  requested  him  to  remain  in  the 
building  and  within  call.  The  man  consented,  for 
he  knew  the  end  of  Ernest  Day's  existence  was 
approaching. 

Mark  set  to  work  as  soon  as  he  entered 
his  sick  brother's  room,  to  make  his  few 
remaining  moments  as  comfortable  as  it  was 
possible.  He  lifted  the  emaciated  form  to  t 


THE   WORST    FOE.  343 

chair,  and  turned  the  mattress  and  smoothed  the 
bed  and  pillows.  Ernest's  feet  and  hands  were 
growing  cold  and  Mark  began  rubbing  them  to 
restore  the  circulation.  When  they  had  again 
assumed  a  partial  warmth,  he  said  : 

"George  Hammond  is  back  ;  I  have  seen  him 
this  evening."  Mark  did  not  expect  the  shock 
that  his  words  produced  on  his  brother.  He 
started  strangely,  and  stared  so  wildly  at  poor 
Mark  that  he  could  only  stamrrier :  '  'You  knew 
him,  didn't  you  ?" 

"Why  don't  you  ask  if  I  knew  Will  Stras- 
more  ?" 

"Because  I  know  you  knew  him,  but  I  guess 
you  know  more  about  both  George  and  William 
than  you  would  like  to  confess. "  Mark  knew 
not  what  prompted  him  to  make  such  an  asser- 
tion, it  seemed  to  come  involuntarily.  Ernest, 
with  a  look  still  more  wild  and  fierce,  half  started 
from  the  bed  and  fixing  his  strangely  staring  eyes 
on  his  brother,  almost  shrieked  : 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"You  can  tell,  for  you  know."  Ernest  sank 
back  with  a  groan  and  closed  his  eyes.  After  a 
moment  he  opened  them  and  fixed  them  on  the 
anxious  Mark.  For  a  moment  he  stared  at 
his  brother  and  then  his  lips  parted  and  he  mur- 
mured : 

"George  Hammond  back  !  What  will  the  end 
be  ?  He  and  Pauline  have  failed.  They  will  pity 


344  THE  WORST  FOE. 

each  other.  Of  course  he  is  as  poor  as  a  church 
mouse — so  is  she  ;  but  they  can  exchange  rich 
sentiments.  Bosh  !  Will  Strasmore  placed  him 
on  his  feet  when  he  was  in  the  gutter — the  letter 
informed  me  that  much.  I  guess  he  has  come 
back  to  take  Will's  place — that  will  be  the  end 
of  it  I  very  plainly  see." 

Extending  his  hands  toward  Mark,  he  said: 
"It  is  coming  on,  they  are  growing  cold  again, 
Mark."  Mark  rubbed  them  vigorously  for  a  few 
moments,  but  without  producing  any  effect. 

"It  is  no  use,"  said  Ernest,  despairingly. 
"My  time  is  up.  Don't  you  think  so,  Mark?" 

"I  fear  it  is,  Ernest ;  do  you  want  me  to  call 
any  one?" 

"No — no,  I  want  you  alone  with  me.  You 
are  a  good  boy,  Mark,  though  I've  never  ap- 
preciated you  as  I  ought  until  this  last  sickness.  I 
can  never  repay  you  for  what  you  have  already 
done  for  me,  but  don't  leave  me  now,  for  it's 
coming.  I  don't  want  any  one  but  you  by  when 
it  does  come  ;  it  will  soon  be  over.  Oh,  Mark, 
this  leap  in  the  dark  is  an  awful  thing !  I  have 
heard  of  people  dying  happy.  If  I  could  live  a 
little  longer,  I  might  make  amends.  My  life 
has  been  a  failure ;  and  it  ends  by  a  leap  in  the 
dark." 

Mark  longed  to  comfort  the  dying  infidel; 
but  being  only  a  moralist  himself,  he  lacked 
that  Christian  faith  which  can  make  a  dying 
bed  as  soft  as  downy  pillows.  If  Pauline  were 


THE   WORST    FOE.  345 

there,  she  could  say  the  right  thing,  but  there 
was  no  one  to  speak  a  word  of  comfort  or  offer 
a  prayer  for  that  dark  soul,  so  soon  to  leave  its 
frail  tenement  of  clay.  After  a  few  moments 
Ernest  Day  gathering  up  his  strength,  began  : 

'  'I  shall  not  take  this  leap  in  the  dark  as  a 
coward.  I  have  not  been  merciful,  but  you 
shall  learn  it  all.  I  have  been  a  good  financier 
and  my  successful  speculations  have  made  me 
rich.  It  will  lawfully  descend  to  my  wife,  broth- 
er and  sister — " 

"Your  wife !"  interrupted  Mark,  thinking 
Ernest's  mind  must  be  wandering. 

'  'Yes,  my  wife,  who  is  none  other  than  the 
lady  you  have  known  as  Deena  Hammond." 

"Deena  Hammond  your  wife  !" 

"Yes — don't  interrupt  me  again,  Mark,  for  I 
have  much  to  say  and  my  time  is  short.  Oh,  I 
do  so  want  to  get  this  load  lifted  from  my  con- 
science before  I  go.  If  I  do  not,  I  feel  that  it 
will  sink  me  deeper  into  hell.  Deena  and  I  grew 
up  together.  I  loved  her.  I  know  now  she  was 
the  only  woman  I  ever  loved.  Good  and  pure 
as  she  was  I  could  not  accept  her  with  her 
poverty.  Still  I  could  not  give  her  up.  I  was 
conscious  of  her  goodness  as  well  as  her  beauty. 
When  I  learned  that  other  suitors  were  seeking 
to  win  her  love,  I  became  jealous.  I  was  des- 
perate and  while  I  did  not  want  to  make  her  my 
wife,  I  wanted  to  prevent  her  marrying  any  one 


346  THE   WORST   FOE. 

else.  I  was  intimate  with  George  Hammond 
and  told  him  I  loved  Deena.  George  said  we 
were  both  too  young  to  think  of  love,  and 
that  my  affection  would  only  prove  a  boyish 
fancy.  When  I  swore  that  I  would  win  his 
sister,  he  said  he  would  prevent  it  if  he  could, 
unless  I  changed  my  course.  I  was  too  fast  and 
must  give  up  my  associations,  habits,  and  quit 
drinking  if  ever  I  expected  to  marry  his  sister. 
It  fired  me  and  I  swore  I  would  make  George 
Hammond  pay  for  his  words." 

Mark  Day  dropped  the  cold  hand  he  had  been 
chafing,  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  his  brother,  men- 
tally ejaculated  :  "God  forbid  that  you  should 
ever  have  a  counterpart." 

"I  was  only  a  moderate  drinker,  Mark," 
Ernest  went  on.  "I  loved  liberty  and  when  I 
found  that  my  drams  were  to  be  stopped  it  rous- 
ed me.  I  loved  wine,  whisky  and  beer,  for  they 
have  been  my  chief  comfort,  but  I  always 
knew  when  to  stop  until  of  late  years,  then  I 
occasionally  took  too  much.  I  must  give  up 
drinking  to  win  his  sister.  It  was  an  insult 
thrown  in  my  face.  It  was  trampling  under  foot 
one  of  my  fixed  principles  —  liberty  —  and  I 
laid  revenge  up  in  my  heart.  I  secretly  wooed 
and  won  Deena  Hammond  and  man  never  won 
a  truer  or  better  woman.  I  found  it  much 
easier  to  win  her  affection  than  her  consent  to 
a  secret  marriage.  When  I  first  mentioned  the 


THE    WORST    FOE.  347 

subject  she  protested  strongly,  but  I  used  the 
old  plea  that  my  father  would  oppose  the  match 
and  might  disinherit  me,  unless  I  married  some 
one  whom  he  thought  better  fitted  for  my  station 
in  society.  Our  wedding  could  be  a  quiet  affair 
and  my  father's  objections  would  gradually  pass 
away.  I  would  not  let  her  go,  I  could  not  give 
her  up,  and  the  more  she  tried  to  put  me  off  the 
more  determined  I  was  to  have  my  way,  and  at 
last  she  consented.  She  went  to  visit  friends  in 
another  State  and  I  met  her  there.  On  her 
eighteenth  birthday  we  were  married  at  the 
house  of  a  country  clergyman.  Three  States  lay 
between  the  place  of  our  marriage  and  my  home, 
and  if  I  could  but  keep  my  tracks  covered  up  the 
matter  might  remain  a  secret.  Only  a  few  con- 
fidential friends  were  in  the  secret,  and  they  re- 
garded it  simply  as  a  bit  of  harmless  romance. 
We  returned  home  separately  and  completely 
deceived  every  one.  Deena  soon  grew  tired  of 
deception  and  begged  that  the  truth  be  told,  but 
I  positively  forbade  her  to  hint  it,  and  tears 
and  reproaches  followed.  Deena  grew  pale  and 
sad.  Old  Joe  Hammond  grew  worse,  George 
became  discouraged  and  the  Hammond  home 
lost  its  attractions.  I  tried  to  buy  Deena  off  and 
wanted  her  to  either  get  a  divorce  or  let  me  have 
one.  It  could  have  been  done  in  the  same  State 
where  we  were  married  and  the  world  never 
known  of  our  silly  union.  She  objected  and 


THE    WORST   FOE. 

urged  that  if  I  did  not  want  to  marry  again,  why 
did  I  want  a  divorce.  She  asked  no  support  of 
me,  and  our  marriage  could  remain  a  secret  un- 
less I  began  paying  attention  to  some  other 
lady.  Should  I  do  that  my  secret  should  be 
published  to  the  world  by  her  putting  our  mar- 
riage certificate  on  record.  The  poor  girl  had  a 
hard  struggle  to  keep  it  all  from  her  mother,  but 
she  made  her  father's  drunkenness  an  excuse, 
and  by  that  deceived  the  mother.  About  that 
time  Pauline  returned  from  school.  You  re- 
member what  she  was  then,  Mark,  a  lovely  girl, 
as  pretty  as  Deena  had  ever  been.  Although 
they  were  about  the  same  age,  Deena's  troubles 
made  her  look  many  years  older.  I  knew  that 
Pauline  was  a  woman  any  man  might  be  proud 
to  call  wife,  and  there  was  no  objection  to  her 
family.  I  coveted  the  prize,  but  already  having 
an  encumbrance,  I  was  riot  free  to  win  her.  I  was 
several  times  at  Denesmore's  house,  but  usually 
with  Maria,  for  I  knew  that  if  provoked,  Deena 
would  put  her  threat  in  execution.  Guy  return- 
ed from  college,  bringing  Strasmore  with  him. 
An  attachment  sprang  up  between  Pauline  and 
Strasmore  which  almost  drove  me  mad  with 
jealousy.  I  hated  Strasmore  from  the  first ;  his 
cool  politeness  and  piercing  glances  enraged  me. 
I  determined  to  supplant  him  by  fair  means  or 
foul  and  set  to  work  in  earnest  to  accomplish  my 
object.  The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  silent -j 


THE   WORST   FOE.  349 

Peena.  I  have  always  been  called  cunning,  but 
then  I  played  my  finest  card.  Every  evening  I 
spent  with  George  Hammond  making  him  think 
I  was  his  best  friend.  I  knew  his  besetting  sin 
was  an  inherited  appetite  for  strong  drink  and 
worked  that  game  on  him.  He  believed  and 
trusted  me,  and  by  degrees  I  led  him  to  the 
saloon  and  gambling  den.  He  was  not  of 
the  stuff  of  which  moderate  drinkers  are  made. 
With  him  it  was  total  abstinence  or  degrading 
drunkenness. 

"My  plan  worked  like  a  charm.  Deena  bow- 
ed under  this  new  affliction  and  shut  herself  up 
from  the  world.  She  failed  rapidly  and  Pauline's 
woe-stricken  face  has  never  been  anything  to 
compare  with  Deena's. " 

"Had  you  no  honor — no  pity?" asked  the  im- 
pulsive Mark. 

"Don't  mention  pity.  I  would  not  let  myself 
think  of  pity.  I  had  an  end  to  accomplish  and 
I  intended  to  do  it  regardless  of  every  considera- 
tion. George  soon  became  a  sot.  You  remem- 
ber what  an  excellent  tool  old  Fitzgooden  was  ? 
Well,  I  made  good  use  of  him.  Deena  had 
never  seen  him.  I  made  her  believe  that  George 
had  forged  a  note  against  me  a?nd  hired  Fitz- 
gooden to  corroborate  my  statement,  and  she 
believed  us.  Deena  promised  secrecy  to  save 
George  and  I  guess  she  has  kept  her  promise 
to  this  day,  though  she  kept  the  marriage  cer- 


35O  THE    WORST    FOE. 

tificate.  But  I  was  not  safe.  George  braced 
up  and  showed  some  signs  of  reformation  and 
started  out  West.  I  knew  what  his  intentions 
were  and  I  knew  that  as  sure  as  he  became  a 
sober  man,  he  would  have  his  family  with  him. 
Were  they  together  the  fact  of  his  innocence 
would  leak  out,  and  brother  and  sister  would  pub- 
lish me  to  the  world.  But  I  foiled  them  there 
again.  You  know  John  Porter  was  in  the  post- 
office  at  that  time.  He  and  I  were  fast  friends. 
John  was  a  scoundrel  of  the  deepest  dye,  and  I 
made  arrangements  with  him  to  save  George  Ham- 
mond's letters  and  let  me  have  them.  He  did 
so,  and  I  soon  had  a  letter  for  William  Stras- 
more  and  Pauline.  I  kept  up  a  correspondence 
in  the  name  of  his  various  friends  and  relations 
for  some  time." 

The  dying  man  was  growing  momentarily 
weaker  and  his  last  sentences  were  scarce  above 
a  whisper.  He  closed  his  eyes  wearily ;  and 
Mark  knowing  his  story  was  not  yet  told,  put 
some  water  to  his  lips  and  chafed  his  hands. 
After  a  few  moments  Ernest  spoke  again. 

"Do  you  think  my  time  is  up,  Mark  ?" 

"I  know  it  is,  Ernest.  I  do  not  think  you  can 
possibly  live  until  to-morrow's  sun  sets.  If  you 
have  more  to  tell  you  had  better  tell  it  now 
while  you  can."  A  shudder  passed  over  the 
dying  man. 

"This  is  awful,  Mark, "  he  groaned.    '  'If  I  had 


THE  WORST  FOE.  351 

even  been  a  moral  man,  this  leap  in  the  dark 
would  not  be  so  terrible." 

"If  you  had  been  strictly  moral,  not  only  your- 
self but  others  would  have  been  saved  worlds  of 
agony.  But  finish  your  story. " 

"While  George  was  sick  in  Denver,  I  had  a 
letter  written  in  Strasmore's  hand  informing  him 
of  the  death  of  his  parents  and  sisters,  and  sent 
k.  He  was  sick  at  the  time  and  believed  it.  I 
can  tell  no  more — I  am  going." 

"William  Strasmore — quick — tell  me  of  him." 
"I  hated  him — he  was  my  successful  rival; 
besides  he  was  making  a  war  against  the  liquor 
traffic.  It  was  the  rashest  act  of  my  life,  but 
my  brain  was  fired  with  hatred  and  whisky.  1 
was  on  the  common  that  night — behind  a  tree, 
and  I  fired  that  pistol.  He  fell — that's  all — / 
murdered  him !"  The  last  sentence  was  hissed 
through  clenched  teeth  and  the  eyes  glared  like 
the  orbs  of  a  demon. 

"What  about  Guy?"  asked  Mark. 
"You  don't  think  I  killed  him,  do  you  ?" 
"Tell  all,  Ernest,  for  time  is  almost  up." 
'  'I  was  glad  when  Guy  took  his  first  glass.     I 
helped  along  every  way  I  could.     When  I  took 
the  mortgage  on  the  Denesmore  place  I  did  it  to 
humiliate  Pauline  for  twice  rejecting  me,  and 
/  did  it.       She   was    forced  to   bear    it  all  in 
silence,    too."        After  a    moment's    wrestling 
with  the   ominous   rattle   in  his  throat,  Ernest, 


352  THE   WORST   FOE. 

said  :      "I    didn't   kill    Guy   outright  as   I   did 
Strasmore,  but  I  might  as  well," 

"You  had  better  have  done  so,"  Mark  an- 
swered. '  'Oh,  Ernest,  brother,  I  would  willingly 
lay  down  my  life  to  make  you  a  guiltless  man." 

All  became  still.  Only  that  increasing  death 
rattle  in  Ernest  Day's  throat  broke  the  silence. 
The  dissipation  of  this  moderate  drinker  had  at 
last  broken  down  even  his  iron  constitution. 
Mark  was  reviewing  in  his  mind  the  awful  death- 
bed confession.  Drink  was  at  the  bottom  of 
it  all.  Men  love  drink  better  than  wife, 
children,  honor,  life  or  soul.  Men  deliberately 
commit  perjury  for  drink.  Was  Ernest  Day 
alone  to  blame.  His  father  had  set  the 
example  of  shrewdness  and  of  moderate  drink- 
ing before  him.  If  Ernest  had  carried  his 
shrewdness  beyond  honesty,  and  his  moderate 
drinking  to  debauchery,  is  it  to  be  wondered  at 
when  the  example  was  set  so  fairly  before  him  ? 
Fathers  and  mothers,  how  can  you  rest  in  your 
graves,  knowing  that  you  are  not  guiltless  of  the 
mis-spent  lives  of  your  children. 

Mark,  with  folded  arms,  stood  by  the  side  of 
his  dying  brother.  The  cheeks  were  wan  and 
hollow,  the  eyes  sunken,  and  yet  every  feature 
indicated  long  continued  dissipation.  The  rattle 
in  his  throat  increased  and  his  breath  grew 
shorter  every  moment.  Mark  went  to  the  door 
and  told  his  friend  in  the  hall  to  bring  the 
doctor. 


THE   WORST   FOE.  353 

The  physician  came  and  said  it  would  soon  be 
over.  Ernest  moved  slightly  and  in  a  feeble 
voice  said : 

"Mark!  Mark!  oh  I  am  so  cold — and  it  is 
growing  dark.  I  am  taking  the  awful  leap.  I 
am  about  to  fall — oh  do  hold  me  back !"  He 
clutched  his  brother's  arm  almost  frantically, 
while  the  death  rattle  increased. 

'  'We  have  done  all  we  can  for  you,  brother. 
The  time  for  your  change  has  come,"  said  Mark, 
while  tears  stole  down  his  cheeks. 

'  'Yes,  I  know  it — I  know  it,  Mark.  I  can  not 
see  you — hold  my  hand — oh !  hold  me  back ! 

"I  am  here  Ernest — right  at  your  side,  and 
will  hold  your  hand  until  it  is  all  over." 

A  struggle  and  a  groan  that  pierced  Mark  and 
the  doctor  with  its  horror,  and  the  dying  man 
straightened  himself  and  breathed  only  at  in- 
tervals. 

A  messenger*  was  sent  for  Maria,  but  before 
she  came  the  eyes  had  closed  forever.  The 
leap  had  been  made — in  the  dark. 

Thus  this  man  of  almost  unequalled  cunning, 
who  had  thwarted  the  plans  of  many,  was  not 
able  to  thwart  Death  when  he  called.  With 
money  he  had  carried  many  points,  but  money 
could  not  save  him  now.  While  we  linger  for  a 
moment  by  his  bier  and  look  on  the  cold  features, 
let  us  ask  if  it  paid  him  to  succeed  at  the  cost  of 
principle.  The  fear  of  death  may  not  be  the 


354  THE  WORST  FOE. 

highest  motive,  but  he  who  fears  real  danget  is 
wise.  To  avoid  a  terrible  death,  one  should 
avoid  an  evil  life.  Revenge  may  be  sweet  at 
first,  but  is  bitter  at  the  last.  "Tis  better  to  be 
wronged  than  wrong."  Better  be  a  William 
Strasmore,  starting  influences  for  good  to  be  lived 
in  other  lives,  though  you  die  a  martyr,  than  to 
be  an  Earnest  Day  in  possession  of  both  the  Day 
and  Denesmore  estates,  with  guilt  enough  to  sink 
you  to  the  lowest  hell. 
*  *  *  *  #  *  *  *  # 

Early  next  day  Mark  called  on  George  Ham- 
mond at  his  hotel,  and  that  part  of  Ernest's 
confession  which  concerned  George  or  Deena 
was  told  him,  but  it  was  not  until  some  months 
later  that  he  knew  the  whole  story.  Next  mail 
carried  Pauline's  letter  to  Deena,  giving  her  the 
news  of  the  restoration  of  her  long  lost  brother ; 
also  one  from  that  brother  informing  her  of  the 
death  of  Ernest  Day.  The  same  mail  bore  a 
letter  from  Mark  to  Arthur  Tempi eton  which 
proved  an  astounding  revelation  to  that  gentle- 
man. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE    REUNION. 

"My  sister  !  my  sweet  sister  !  if  a  name 
Dearer  and  fairer  were,  it  should  be  thine; 

Mountains  have  divided  us,  but  I  claim 
No  tears,  but  tenderness  to  answer  mine ; 

Go  where  I  will,  to  me  thou  art  the  same." 

— Byron. 

\  9  THEN  George  Hammond  first  met  Pauline 
^^  Denesmore  and  noticed  how  changed  she 
was,  his  heart  ached.  He  longed  to  call  her  away 
and  shield  her  if  possible  from  the  terrible 
memories  of  the  past.  She  had  reigned  in  his 
heart  for  years.  Her  kindness  to  himself  and 
sister  during  their  unhappy  childhood  and  even 
in  later  years  lingered  among  his  brightest 
recollections.  Though  their  social  positions 
were  so  widely  different  that  he  could  only 
admire  her  from  a  distance,  there  were  times 
when  the  pretty  face  of  Pauline  Denesmore  was 
mingled  with  George  Hammond's  dreams. 
Pauline  little  understood  the  position  she  held  in 
George  Hammond's  affections.  She  had  never 
loved  but  once,  and  that  love  was  still  as 

355 


356  THE    WORST   FOE. 

sacred  as  when  first  plighted.  The  memory  of 
William  seemed  sweeter  in  contrast  to  the  days  of 
bitter  anguish  through  which  she  had  passed  since 
his  death.  Even  the  noble,  manly  George 
Hammond  roused  sweet  reflections  of  the 
departed,  for  it  was  William  who  had  saved  him 
from  degradation  and  death.  There  was  a  sort 
of  sad  pleasure  in  being  with  George,  and  before 
he  had  been  in  Staunton  a  week  she  found  herself 
anxiously  waiting  and  expecting  his  visits. 

She  never  realized  until  the  time  came  for 
him  to  go,  how  lonely  she  would  be  when  he 
was  gone.  When  in  George's  presence  there 
was  a  quiet  content  within  her  heart  which  sur- 
passed any  feeling  she  had  experienced  since 
William's  death.  It  had  been  Pauline's  intention 
to  accompany  George  Hammond  to  Kansas,  but 
finally  she  determined  not  to  do  so.  The  day 
before  George's  departure,  Mark  asked  Pauline  to 
visit  her  old  home  once  more.  As  Deena  had  an 
interest  in  the  place  her  brother  was  also  invited 
to  accompany  them.  At  first  Pauline  felt  that  the 
task  would  be  too  much  for  her,  but  when  George 
urged  her  so  earnestly  to  accompany  him  she 
consented.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  crossed 
the  threshold  of  that  dear  old  home  since  she 
had  quitted  it.  His  manly  arm  supported  her 
up  and  down  the  old  stairs.  They  passed  through 
the  halls  and  principal  rooms,  and  now  stood  at 
the  parlor  window  looking  out  upon  the  beauti- 


THE   WORST    FOE.  357 

ful  grounds,  where  Pauline  had  spent  so  many 
happy  hours.  Mark  had  excused  himself  to  see 
after  some  workmen  for  a  moment.  As  they 
were  thus  alone,  the  sad  recollections  came  viv- 
idly before  Pauline,  yet  the  words  and  presence 
of  George  were  so  like  balm  to  the  bowed  spirit 
that  she  felt  a  comfort  and  rest  that  she  could 
not  explain.  As  they  stood  thus,  the  words  in 
George's  heart  came  to  his  lips. 

"Miss  Denesmore — Pauline,  I  cannot  leave 
without  making  a  confession  to  you.  Had  I  not 
found  you  battling  with  the  storms  of  life,  I 
never  would  have  dared  tell  you,  for  I  feel  your 
superiority.  Knowing  what  you  have  endured.  I 
can  only  wish  that  I  could  have  shielded  you 
from  all  these  troubles ;  but  I  can  give  you  the 
homage  of  a  pure  love.  It  may  be  bold  in  me 
to  entertain  such  a  hope.  But  can  you  not  give 
me  a  place  in  your  affection  ?  We  are  past  the 
time  for  romance — will  you  be  my  wife  ?  " 

Pauline  raised  her  astonished  eyes  to  the 
earnest,  handsome  face.  This  declaration  was 
certainly  a  great  surprise  to  her.  She  looked 
about  to  see  if  Mark  was  in  the  room,  but  he 
was  absent.  Her  feelings  at  that  moment  were 
indescribable.  Before  her  was  a  man  whose 
principles  were  as  firmly  fixed  as  were  William 
Strasmore's,  and  he  claimed  to  love  her.  What 
should  she  do  ?  Must  she  go  through  life  in 
this  lonely  way  or  could  she  be  happier  aa 


358  THE   WORST    FOE. 

George  Hammond's  wife  ?  She  was  not  indiffer- 
ent to  the  fact  that  in  the  stormy  trials  to  which 
she  was  exposed,  she  needed  a  strong  arm  on 
which  to  lean,  a  loving  heart  in  which  to  confide. 
Her  life's  sad  experience  had  taught  her  the 
comfort  of  these.  She  was  not  in  a  hurry  to 
reply,  and  for  a  long  time  reflected  on  the  start- 
ling question.  At  last  she  said  : 

"George  Hammond,  you  know  full  well  that 
my  affections  lie  buried  in  the  grave.  I  loved 
William  Strasmore  as  I  can  never  love  another ; 
you  are  worthy  to  be  any  woman's  husband.  I 
can  love  you  and  shall  in  time  come  to  do  so. 
I  can  make  you  an  affectionate  wife. " 

He  drew  her  to  his  breast,  which  was  hence- 
forth to  be  her  place  of  refuge. 

"Poor,  patient,  storm-tossed  soul,"  George 
murmured,  "this  even — is  more  joy  than  I  ever 
dared  to  hope." 

"Though  the  bitter  past  is  too  deeply  im- 
pressed on  our  hearts  to  be  effaced, "  said  Pauline, 
"we  will  try  and  live  in  the  joy  and  hope  of  the 
future." 

Plans  for  the  future  were  laid  that  very  day. 
Six  months  later  George  was  to  return  and  claim 
his  bride.  On  the  morrow  he  bade  adieu  to  the 
one  whom  he  had  so  long  loved  in  secret  and 
set  out  to  join  those  sisters  whom  he  had  not 
seen  for  years. 


THE    WORST    FOE.  359 

Early  one  bright  morning  Lillie  Hammond 
rose  from  the  breakfast  table  and  asked  her  elder 
sister : 

"Deena,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do  to- 
day ?" 

"Go  to  the  post-office  is  about  all,  I  guess," 
Deena  replied.  "It  is  time  I  should  have  a  letter 
from  Pauline." 

A  moment  later  the  merry,  fun-loving  Lillie 
had  donned  hat  and  gloves  and  left  the  little 
cottage.  Girls  do  not  usually  belong  to  that 
class  or  family  of  beings  called  solitary.  You 
seldom  ever  know  a  girl  to  go  down  town,  or 
out  shopping  alone  if  she  has  a  girl  friend  of  her 
own  age  near  who  is  able  to  go  with  her.  We 
usually  see  girls  going  in  pairs  or  little  groups, 
and  they  are  certainly  happier,  brighter  and 
prettier  by  being  together.  It  was  just  as  natu- 
ral for  Lillie  to  call  on  her  friend,  Ida,  to  go  with 
her  to  the  post-office,  even  though  it  would  have 
been  nearer  to  have  gone  direct,  as  it  was  for  Ida 
to  set  aside  all  manner  of  excuse  and  delay  and 
get  ready  to  go  with  her. 

"I  guess  there  will  not  be  a  large  mail  for  us," 
said  Lillie,  as  they  tripped  along  the  sidewalk  to 
the  post-office.  '  'Deena  has  but  one  correspon- 
dent and  I  have  none." 

"I  don't  think  you  can  say  that  much  longer," 
returned  Ida,  with  a  laugh.  "I  wouldn't  be  sur- 
prised if  there  were  a  letter  there  for  you  this 
morning." 


360  THE  WORST   FOE. 

"From  whom  ?" 

"Mr.  Day." 

"No,  there  wont.  I  know  he  won't  write  to 
me." 

"How  you  do  talk  !  What  makes  you  think 
he  will  not?" 

"He  never  asked  me  if  he  could." 

They  had  now  reached  the  post-office  and  the 
postmaster  handed  out  two  letters  for  Deena. 
Lillie  experienced  a  peculiar  sensation  as  she 
glanced  at  the  superscription  on  one  envelope. 
Surely  that  handwriting  was  familiar,  yet  whose 
could  it  be  ?  She  trembled  and  almost  wished 
that  Ida  were  not  with  her. 

'  'Deena  has  but  one  correspondent,  you  said, ' ' 
remarked  Ida,  as  they  left  the  post-office.  '  'One 
of  these  letters  is  from  her,  and  the  other  is 
from  Mark  Day.  He  has  written  to  Deena  and 
asked  her  if  he  might  correspond  with  you." 
Lillie  assured  her  it  was  not  from  Mark,  and  she 
felt  not  a  little  relieved  when  Ida  stopped  at 
her  own  gate,  saying:  "If  you  are  not  here 
by  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  will  come  after 
you." 

Lillie  promised  that  she  would  be  promptly 
on  hand  and  then  hurried  home.  She  called 
Deena,  who  was  in  the  kitchen,  and  handing  her 
the  letters,  said : 

"One  of  those  letters  is  in  a  strange  hand.  I 
seem  to  have  seen  it  before,  but  I  cannot  saj 
whose  it  is." 


THE   WORST    FOE.  361 

Deena  took  the  letter,  broke  the  seal  and 
squeezing  the  edges  of  the  envelope  together 
inserted  the  thumb  and  finger  of  her  right  hand 
into  it  and  drew  forth  the  folded  letter,  which  she 
spread  out  before  her.  She  glanced  at  it  a  moment, 
devouring  its  contents,  while  a  strange  joyous 
light  illumined  her  face.  Then  she  held  out  the 

o 

letter  to  Lillie,  saying  : 

"Oh  !  Lillie — Lillie,  brother  George  is  alive!" 

With  trembling  hand  and  tear-dimmed  eyes, 
Lillie  took  the  letter  and  read  it  through. 
Ernest's  death-bed  confessions  and  sufferings 
strangely  affected  Deena.  Although  he  had 
"been  the  evil  genius  of  the  Hammond  family 
she  freely  forgave  him.  The  letter  was  re-read 
and  commented  on  by  the  sisters.  The  other 
letter  was  from  Pauline  and  corroborated  what 
George  had  written. 

Arthur  Templeton  received  a  letter  from  Mark 
which  he  read  to  his  mother  and  they  held  a 
long  consultation  together.  The  letter  had  told 
all,  and  Mrs.  Templeton  knew  that  Deena  would 
shrink  from  making  the  revelation  herself,  but 
would  feel  relieved  to  know  it  had  been  made. 
Next  day  Mrs.  Templeton,  with  her  benevo- 
lent face  wreathed  with  smiles,  called  on  the 
sisters.  Deena  was  alone  and  as  soon  as  her 
visitor  was  seated,  the  kind  old  lady  began  : 

"I  have  heard  all  about  it.  Arthur  got  a  let- 
ter from  Mark  Day  last  night,  which  told  all 


362  THE   WORST   FOE. 

about  your  brother  coming  back  like  one  from 
the  dead.  Mark  explained  everything,  dear,  and 
relieved  you  of  the  task." 

Deena,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  answered : 
'  'I  have  been  thinking,  Mrs.  Templeton,  howl 
should  account  to- you  for  the  deception — " 

" 'Oh,  no,  no,  never  mind  that,"  interrupted 
the  kind  old  lady,  in  time  to  prevent  Deena  from 
breaking  down.  "Of  course,  deception  is  wrong, 
but  there  are  many  mitigating  circumstances  in 
your  case.  But  you  did  the  best  you  could,  and 
no  one  can  really  blame  you.  You  prevented 
his  getting  a  divorce  and  wrecking  the  happi- 
ness of  some  other  girl." 

%  ^c  Hi  sjc  %  %  % 

Another  week  has  passed  and  again  it  is  a 
brilliant  morning.  Lillie  is  hastening  about  the 
room  in  a  state  of  excitement,  while  Deena  sits 
by  the  window,  her  face  aglow  with  expectation. 
The  mail  hack  comes  toward  the  house  and  stops 
at  the  gate.  Deena  arose,  paused  for  a  single 
moment  trembling  with  agitation,  and  started  to- 
ward the  door,  when  George  bounded  into  the 
room  and  caught  his  eldest  sister  in  his  arms  : 

"Deena!" 

"George!"  was  all  that  was  spoken  until 
Lillie  said : 

"Brother,  have  you  forgotten  me?" 

"Can  this  be  our  sister,  Lillie?"  he  asked,, 
holding  her  back  and  looking  at  her. 


THE  WORST  FOE.  363 

"I  have  good  reason  to  believe  it  is,"  she  an- 
swered. 

'  'You  look  more  like  our  mother  than  either 
of  us,  and  are  as  mischievous  as  ever,"  said 
George,  leading  them  both  to  the  sofa. 

The  past,  present  and  future  were  all  discussed 
in  a  hurried  manner,  and  then  carefully  gone  over 
in  detail. 

"George,  can  you  forgive  me  for  my  decep- 
tion ?"  asked  Deena,  after  they  had  gone  over 
the  sad  story  of  her  marriage  with  Ernest  Day. 

"You  were  first  to  forgive,  and  I  would  be 
worse  than  a  sinner  not  to  forgive  you.  Why 
did  you  not  tell  me  that  Ernest  accused  me  of 
forgery  ?" 

"I  believed  it,  George.  Strong  drink  so 
changes  the  disposition  of  men,  that  I  knew  not 
what  you  might  have  done  when  crazed  and 
fired  to  madness  with  whiskey.  It  made  of 
Ernest  Day  a  demon.  I  would  not  believe  him 
when  he  told  me,  until  he  brought  another  to 
confirm  his  story." 

"What  strong  drink  made  of  Ernest  Day,  and 
the  end  to  which  moderate  dram-drinking  brought 
him,  should  be  a  warning  to  all  moderate 
drinkers.  He  completely  deceived  me.  In  the 
name  of  Dr.  Denesmore  he  wrote  me  first  of 
mother's  and  father's  death,  and  afterwards  of 
your  deaths  from  typhoid  fever.  Then  in 
the  name  of  Strasmore,  in  a  hand  and  style  en- 


364  THE  WORST  FOE. 

tirely  different,  he  wrote,  offering  me  Christian 
consolation  in  bereavement.  But  it  is  all  past. 
Light  has  dawned  and  your  days  of  toil  and  sor- 
row are  over.  I  have  a  pleasant  home  for  both 
of  you  in  San  Francisco." 

Lillie,  with  a  mischievous  look  at  her  sister, 
said: 

"I  expect  she  won't  go  at  all.  Her  engage- 
ments will  keep  her  here  for  some  time  yet  and 
then — well  a  word  to  the  wise  is  sufficient. " 

George  smiling,  asked : 

"Will  you  come,  Lillie,  and  live  in  my  new 
home  on  the  western  sea?" 

"Oh,  if  you  can  get  no  one  else  to  look  after 
your  dinner  and  darn  your  socks  I  will  try  it. 
But  I  suspect  you  will  soon  be  looking  up  a 
Mrs.  George  Hammond  to  relieve  me,  and 
then  my  time  will  be  divided  between  the  two 
places." 

"If  that  is  your  wish  it  can  be  gratified,"  said 
<jeorge  Hammond. 

"Who  is  it,  brother — we  will  love  her  for  your 
sake,"  said  Deena. 

"You  already  love  her  for  her  own  sake,  her 
name  is  Pauline  Denesmore. " 

"Oh,  George,  is  it  true?"  cried  Deena,  clap- 
ping her  hands  for  joy.  "I  do  love  Pauline  and 
always  have.  She  has  been  more  than  a  sister 
tome." 

"I  know  I  shall  like  her,  but  I  don't  remena- 


THE   WORST   FOE.  365 

her  much  about  her.  I  may  stay  with  you  more 
than  with  Deena  if  Mr.  Templeton  should  grow 
to  be  cross  in  his  old  days,"  said  Lillie. 

"You  may  have  a  home  of  your  own,"  said' 
George,  with  a  smile.  '  'I  am  satisfied  you  will 
see  Mark  Day  before  many  days  have  passed. 
He  is  a  good  fellow,  and  I  took  a  brother's  priv- 
ilege to  give  him  permission  to  write  to  you.  I 
think  if  you  will  call  at  the  post-office  you  will 
find  a  letter  awaiting  you  from  Mark,  and  he  may 
say  something  nice  in  it." 

George  was  correct.  That  evening  Mrs. 
Templeton  and  her  son  called,  and  George  and 
Arthur  soon  became  fast  friends.  Lillie  was 
sitting  between  her  sister  and  Mrs.  Templeton 
and  recurring  to  her  cherished  ambition,  said 
mischievously : 

"I  believe  I  am  too  comfortable  to  write  a 
book.  I'll  leave  that  to  such  tempest-tossed 
souls  as  authors  must  be,  or  they  could  not  enter 
into  the  woes  and  sorrows  of  their  characters." 
Mrs.  Templeton  smiled  and  nodded  her  head  in 
silence,  while  Deena  gravely  responded : 

"A  very  wise  conclusion,  Lillie." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE   WEDDING, 

"He  led  her  blushing  like  the  morn  ;  all  Heavea 
And  happy  constellations  on  that  hour 
Shed  their  selected  influence  ! 


TITHE  next  few  months  was  a  busy  period  for 
-*•  Mark  Day.  It  was  desirable  that  Ernest's 
estate  be  settled  as  speedily  and  with  as  little  ex- 
pense as  possible.  Mark  was  the  administrator, 
which  was  a  new  care  on  him,  in  addition  to  at- 
tending to  his  own  affairs.  The  wise  men  of 
Staunton  noted  his  movements,  and  said  one  to 
another,  that  he  bid  fair  to  exceed  even  his 
shrewd  father  as  a  business  man,  and  had  in 
addition,  honesty  and  integrity,  with  no  bad 
habits.  He  was  soon  classed  among  the  best 
men  of  the  city.  He  had  gained  what  he  had 
struggled  for  from  boyhood  —  a  name  for  truth, 
honesty  and  ability,  and  stood  on  the  threshold 
of  prosperity.  He  was  young  and  vigorous,  with 
an  abundance  of  ambition,  and  a  prosperous  life 
seemed  in  store  for  him. 

Mark  purchased  the  Denesmore  place  which  he 
offered  to  his  brother's  widow,  but  Deena  wanted 

366 


THE   WORST   FOE. 

no  property  in  Staunton.  Maria  did  not  care  to 
have  so  much  money  invested  in  real  estate,  but 
Mark  said  that  the  old  place  should  not  go  out 
of  the  family,  and  kept  it  himself.  Once  more 
the  hall  echoed  with  busy  workmen  refitting  and 
furnishing  the  house.  Mark  was  in  haste  to  have 
all  this  completed  before  Pauline's  marriage,  as 
he  wanted  that  event  celebrated  in  her  old 
home. 

George  in  the  far  west  meanwhile,  was  pre- 
paring for  the  same  event,  trying  to  make  a  home 
as  attractive  as  the  one  Pauline  had  been  accus 
tomed  to  from  childhood.  Deena  and  Lillie 
were  looking  forward  to  the  coming  event  with 
no  little  degree  of  pleasure,  while  Arthur  and 
his  mother  shared  the  happiness.  Lillie  sat  in 
the  background  when  Mr.  Templeton  was 
present,  and  was  entertained  rather  than  the 
entertainer.  She  noticed  a  marked  change  in 
both,  and  declared  that  Deena  was  becoming 
a  girl  again,  and  that  no  one  could  call  Arthur 
awkward. 

Pauline,  Mark  and  Maria  were  at  last  estab- 
lished in  the  Denesmore  house.  Faithful  Mandy 
and  Henry  held  their  old  positions.  Henry's 
assistant  was  Jefferson  Lea  Scott.  Aunt  Dinah 
had  retired  from  active  service  except  on  special 
occasions.  The  coming  event  was  to  be  an  extra 
occasion,  so  her  services  would  be  required. 
George  Hammond  came  from  the  West  to  claim 


368  THE   WORST   FOE. 

his  bride.     Deena  and  Lillie  accompanied  him. 

The  wedding  morn  came  bright,  rosy  and 
blushing  as  the  bride  herself.  All  nature  seemed 
decked  in  her  gayest  apparel  as  if  to  celebrate 
the  occasion.  Pauline  did  not  attire  herself  in 
white  satin  and  orange  blossoms,  as  she  had  once 
expected  to  appear.  The  day  for  having  only 
joy  in  her  heart  was  past,  but  the  sad,  thought- 
ful looking  bride  was  as  dear  to  George  Ham- 
mond as  if  she  had  been  as  fresh  with  youth  as 
a  maid  of  sixteen.  The  church  was  crowded  to 
overflowing.  The  clergyman  who  had  known 
both  Pauline  and  George  from  childhood 
officiated.  The  warmest  and  most  heartfelt 
congratulations  were  showered  on  the  newly 
married  couple.  As  the  wilted  flower  lifts  its 
head  on  receiving  the  nourishment  of  the  gentle 
dew,  so  the  human  heart  bowed  down  with  toil, 
care  and  disappointment,  is  lifted  up  by  words  of 
encouragement.  After  so  many  years  of  sorrow 
to  find  old  friends  once  more  congratulating  her. 
seemed  to  Pauline  too  much  bliss  for  this  life. 
Would  it  last,  would  peace  remain  unbroken, 
or  was  it  only  a  lull  before  the  storm  ?  The  un- 
happy reflections  were  scattered  to  the  winds  by 
the  recollection  that :  "He  giveth  his  beloved 
rest." 

A  wedding  feast  was  prepared  at  the  old 
Denesmore  house,  and  after  the  guests  dispersed 
the  family  had  a  few  hours  to  themselves.  Dur- 


THE  WORST  FOE.  369 

ing  the  conversation  that  followed,  Arthur 
Templeton  said  his  mother  knew  beyond  a 
doubt  that  Mrs.  Annie  Strasmore  was  her  hus- 
band's niece.  Mr.  Templeton,  sr.,  had  a  brother 
who  had  but  one  daughter.  The  record  of  her 
birth  was  still  in  grandfather  Templeton's  regis- 
ter,  which  was  in  her  possession.  Mrs.  Temple- 
ton  took  it  on  herself  to  explain  : 

"Arthur's  father  moved  west  when  only  a  boy. 
There    was    only  about  eight  years  difference 
between  his  and  Annie's  ages.     Mr.  Templeton 
neglected   to    keep    his    brother    informed    of 
his  whereabouts,  and  they  finally  lost  track  of 
each   other   entirely.     I    have   written   to    Mr. 
Strasmore  and  he  is  satisfied  that  his  wife  Annie 
Templeton  was  none  other  than  John  Temple- 
ton's  child." 

"Truth  is  stranger  than  fiction,"  said  Mark 
with  strange  solemnity.  "When  we  review  the 
lives  of  the  Strasmores,  Denesmores  and  Ham- 
monds, we  must  acknowledge  that  to  be  true. 
We  have  all  been  tried  in  the  fire.  But  remem- 
ber that  all  is  well  that  ends  well.  We  are  all 
safe  .from  that  enemy  which  once  put  out  the 
light  in  this  home,  for  we  know  how  subtle 
and  dangerous  a  foe  it  is." 

When  Mark  permitted  Maria  to  live  in  his 
house,  it  was  with  the  distinct  understanding  that 
she  should  give  up  her  wines  and  strengthening 
cordials,  or  patent  medicines,  which  were  only 

(24) 


37O  THE   WORST   FOE. 

alcohol  in  disguise.  Maria  gave  consent,  and 
took  up  her  abode  with  her  brother,  who 
was  very  kind  to  the  unfortunate  woman.  She 
had  lost  much  of  her  pride  and  hauteur,  and  her 
very  selfishness  and  love  of  ease  made  her  hum- 
ble and  submissive.  Mark  loved  little  Pauline 
and  the  child  returned  his  affection.  She  was 
very  different  from  her  mother,  having  less 
selfishness  and  more  strong  common  sense. 

The  hardest  task  Pauline  had  in  leaving  hef 
old  home  was  separating  from  her  little  name- 
sake. When  the  child  clung  to  her  neck  and 
begged  her  as  only  a  child  can  not  to  go, 
Pauline's  tears  mingled  with  hers.  The  promise 
of  toys  and  presents  would  not  buy  her  off,  and 
it  was  only  by  a  strategem  that  Mark  finally 
succeeded  in  pacifying  her. 

Mark  accompanied  Pauline  and  George  to  the 
depot  and  bade  them  adieu  as  they  boarded 
the  train.  Pauline  had  so  long  been  a  sister  to 
him  that  it  was  hard  to  give  her  up.  The  old 
place  would  be  lonely  without  her,  but  he  had 
little  Pauline,  whose  sweet  prattle  would  in  a 
measure  comfort  him  until  Lillie  came  to  preside 
over  his  household. 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

WEDDING    BELLS. 

"Ring  out,  ye  crystal  spheres, 
Once  bless  our  human  ears 
And  let  your  silver  chime 
Move  in  melodious  time." 

— Milton. 

T7IFTEEN  months  have  gone  by.  Deena  and 
*  Arthur  have  been  married  six  months,  and  are 
as  happy  as  the  memories  of  the  past  will  allow 
them  to  be.  We  are  now  on  the  eve  of  another 
event.  One  event  follows  so  rapidly  on  the 
steps  of  another  that  we  can  only  gaze  and 
wonder. 

There  is  quite  a  gathering  at  Arthur  Temple- 
ton's  home.  George  and  Pauline  are  there  look- 
ing contented  and  happy.  Deena  is  not  like 
the  sad-faced  woman  whom  we  first  saw  at 
Joe  Hammond's.  Arthur  Templeton  is  devoting 
his  time  to  the  entertainment  of  his  guests.  Ida 
and  Fred  came  at  an  early  hour  with  presents 
and  flowers. 

"These  are  for  Lillie,"  she  said  as  she  placed 
several  lillies  of  the  valley,  orange  blossoms  and 

371 


3/2  THE   WORST  FOE. 

roses  in  Lillie's  room.      "I   have  been  saving 
them  for  weeks  for  this  occasion." 

Lillie  is  all  blushes  and  smiles.  It  is  the  eve 
of  her  wedding.  In  a  few  hours  she  will  leave 
all  these  dear  faces  to  enter  on  the  voyage  of  life 
as  Mark's  wife.  There  is  happiness  inexpressi- 
ble in  the  thought  that  she  is  to  wed  the  man 
of  her  choice ;  yet  she  can  but  feel  sad  when 
she  remembers  that  she  is  soon  to  be  separated 
from  those  scenes  and  faces  which  had  long 
been  so  dear  to  her. 

Though  Deena  Templeton  rejoices  in  her  sis- 
ter's happiness,  yet  she  is  downcast  and  melan- 
choly when  she  reflects  that  her  sister  is  soon  to 
leave  and  live  so  far  away  from  her.  Though 
she  could  scarcely  restrain  her  tears,  she  deter- 
mined to  continue  cheerful  and  hopeful  while 
in  her  sister's  presence.  They  purposely  avoided 
meeting  each  other's  eyes,  lest  they  should 
break  down  and  mar  the  pleasure  of  the 
occasion. 
####*###* 

My  work  is  nearly  done.  I  sit  now  alone  with 
this  child  of  my  brain.  When  I  contemplate  the 
struggles.  trials  and  temptations  to  which  oui 
noblest  and  best  are  subjected  I  am  appalled. 
The  current  of  my  thoughts  turns  to  that  wee 
laddie  in  the  cradle  yonder,  who  will  by  and  by 
call  me  aunt.  When  I  hear  his  baby  accents 
or  see  him  clapping  his  hands  with  delight, 


THE    WORST   FOE.  373 

I  ask  myself  what  is  before  this  precious  child. 
All  too  soon  he  will  lay  aside  his  baby  clothes 
and  ways  and  become  a  boy.  He  must  have  a 
boy's  liberty,  for  if  it  is  not  given  him,  he  will 
take  it.  I  want  him  to  grow  to  be  a  wise  and 
good  man,  and  he  is  certainly  a  child  of  promise. 
Only  a  short  distance  down  this  very  street  there 
is  not  a  school-house,  church,  or  even  a  place  of 
innocent  amusement,  but  a  dram-shop.  When 
he  becomes  a  boy  he  will  be  told  that  this  is  a 
dangerous  place  for  boys,  and  be  forbidden  to 
enter  it.  But  boys  love  danger  and  forbidden 
fruit  always  looks  tempting.  He  will  in  all  prob- 
ability at  some  time  venture  slyly  to  creep  into 
that  den,  to  see  if  it  is  really  the  abode  of  mon- 
sters. Punishment  may  follow,  but  that  will  only 
rouse  his  rebellious  spirit.  His  mother's  tears 
may  be  regarded  as  only  the  emotion  of  a  silly 
woman.  Soon  he  will  be  at  man's  estate,  and 
then  no  one  can  prevent  his  entering  the  estab- 
lishment he  was  in  childhood  forbidden  to  visit. 
He  may  come  to  think  that  it  hastens  his  man- 
hood to  become  early  a  frequenter  of  that  saloon, 
I  tremble  now  for  his  future. 

What  are  we  going  to  do  about  it  ?  Work 
for  prohibition.  But  prohibition  will  never  be 
practicable,  many  say.  Of  course,  it  will  not, 
if  you  do  not  love  your  boys,  your  country  or 
homes.  Our  forefathers  gained  for  us  our  in- 
dependence, the  curse  of  slavery  was  swept  from 


374  THE  WORST  FOE. 

our  fair  land,  and  now,  are  you  going  to  let  a 
curse  equally  as  great  and  degrading  exist  ?  Will 
you  run  the  risk  of  that  child  of  yours  coming 
under  the  bondage  of  rum,  under  the  blind  belief 
that  prohibition  is  not  practicable  ?  Cast  aside 
that  thought  which  has  brought  only  woe  and 
misery  to  our  country!  Set  to  work  to  save  the 
boys  and  redeem  the  men. 

Again  I  pause,  rest  my  head  in  my  hand,  slow- 
ly close  my  eyes,  and  baby  Charley's  sweet  face 
comes  again  before  me.  His  face  appears  often- 
est  to  me,  because  he  is  nearest  my  heart. 
Every  boy  that  I  ever  knew  is  dimly  outlined 
in  my  mind.  I  get  up  and  kneel  at  the  cradle, 
beside  the  placid  sleeper,  and  gaze  lovingly  upon 
his  innocent  face.  My  heart  sends  up  a  prayer, 
"God  save  the  boys,"  but  Charley  stands  in  the 
front.  My  tears  of  anxiety  bathe  his  head, 
when  I  think  that  his  father  is  no  better  tham 
was  John  Denesmore,  nor  is  he  more  promising 
than  Guy  Denesmore  was  in  his  childhood 
How  can  we  save  the  boys? 

Is  prohibition  practicable  ?  If  not,  how  can  we 
make  it  practicable  ?  Just  give  the  liquor  traffic 
the  merit  it  deserves.  Class  it  with  robbery  and 
murder,  and  make  it  so  disreputable  that  no  man 
can  openly  carry  on  the  business  and  be  regard- 
ed a  good  citizen.  This  crime  will  then,  like  all 
others,  be  driven  into  dark  channels  where  it  will 
not  be  so  liable  to  corrupt  the  entire  youth  of 


THE   WORST    FOE.  375 

tfie  land.  Many  units  make  a  mighty  number. 
Those  who  take  the  stand  for  temperance  are  not 
alone.  The  mountains  of  difficulty  are  full  of 
the  horsemen  and  chariots  of  the  Lord.  There 
are  many  already  in  the  field,  nobly  fighting  for 
the  cause  of  the  right,  and  combating  humanity's 
worst  foe.  Help  correct  society  and  spend  not 
these  golden  moments  in  abusing  the  saloon- 
keeper. Redeem  him  with  the  rest  of  humanity, 
if  he  will  persist  in  violating  the  law  after  the 
traffic  has  been  made  unlawful,  then  deal  with 
him  as  you  would  with  any  other  violator  of  law. 

Again  at  my  table,  I  close  my  eyes  and  men- 
tally I  seem  to  review  these  pages.  The  door 
opens,  some  one  has  entered  the  room  and  leans 
over  me.  How  my  heart  beats,  who  is  it  ?  I 
open  my  eyes,  and  lo,  Pauline's  sweet,  yet  ten- 
derly sad  face,  and  eyes  that  shine  with  the  light 
of  an  inward  peace,  look  down  upon  me.  Scarce 
knowing  what  I  am  speaking,  I  say : 

"I  dared  not  open  my  eyes  when  you  first 
entered.  I  did  not  know,  but  you  were  a  liquor 
demon  come  to  carry  me  off. " 

She  looked  very  gravely  at  me  and  said  : 

"You  have  written  these  pages,  attempting 
to  picture  the  miseries  caused  by  TJte  Worst 
Foe  and  now  you  are  afraid  that  the  thing 
is  coming  to  carry  you  off."  Smiling  at  the 
thought,  she  continued:  "You  are  shrinking 
from  your  duty." 


376  THE    WORST   FOE. 

"  You  know,  my  dear,  about  what  I  am  writ 
ing;  none  better  than  you. " 

"  Yes, "  she  replied,  "we  should  be  zealous 
in  this  work,  remembering  that  hearts  are  not 
crushed  with  the  fall  of  this  monster.  Noble 
ambitions  are  not  cast  to  the  dust  by  the  over- 
throw of  king  alcohol.  Instead,  broken  hearts 
are  bound  up  and  noble  ambitions  gratified." 

Slowly  she  turned  the  pages,  reading  a  bit 
here  and  there.  Tears  were  in  her  eyes  as  she 
bent  over  and  kissed  me  on  the  forehead,  say- 
ing :  "God  bless  your  efforts,  dear  sister,  for  this 
noble  cause.  Do  you  hear  the  bells  ?  They  are 
golden  bells.  It  is  Lillie's  and  Mark's  wedding 
day.  I  must  away." 

She  is  gone,  and  still  the  chime  of  those  sweet 
bells  is  ringing  in  my  ears. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

CONCLUSION. 

"The  King's  a  beggar,  now  the  play  is  done 
All  is  well  ended,  if  this  suit  be  won, 
That  you  express  content,  which  we  will  pay, 
With  strife  to  please  you,  day  exceeding  day. 
Ours  be  your  patience  then,  and  yours  our  parts  ;• 
Your  gentle  hands  lend  us,  and  take  our  hearts." 

— Shakespeare. 

"INDULGE  us,  kind  reader,  a  few  moments 
•!•  longer  before  we  lay  down  our  pen.  Great 
reforms  are  usually  of  slow  growth.  The  leader 
of  any  reformation  is  branded  a  lunatic,  an- 
enthusiast,  a  fanatic.  Luther  perhaps  was  abused 
more  in  his  time  than  any  other  man.  The  mov- 
ers in  the  old  abolition  movement  have  been 
branded  with  every  abusive  name  and  epithet 
that  could  be  applied  to  them.  The  very 
men  who  abused  them  most  are  now  loudest  in 
their  praise.  The  fanatic  has  been  changed  to 
the  martyr.  The  time  will  come,  and  thank 
Heaven,  it  is  not  far  distant,  when  this  prohibi- 
tion question  will  sweep  the  country  like  a  wild 
fire.  Then  the  honest  and  brave,  who,  amid 
sneers  and  scoffs,  have  steadily  fought  the  mons- 

877 


3/8  THE   WORST   FOE. 

ter,  will  be  called  martyrs  instead  of  fools  and 
lunatics.  The  leaders  will  live  in  sculptured  bust 
or  finely  chiseled  marble,  long  after  their  bodies 
have  mouldered  in  the  grave.  They  may  never 
live  to  hear  their  own  praises  sung  by  mortal 
tongues,  but  in  that  Heaven  to  which  all  the 
righteous  are  wending  their  way,  they  will  find 
their  rich  reward. 

We  cannot  conclude  until  we  have  briefly 
traced  the  career  of  some  of  those  humble 
characters,  with  whom  we  have  in  the  course  of 
our  story  come  in  contact.  The  reader  has 
not  forgotten  the  little  band  of  boys  organ- 
ized by  William  Strasmore.  They  were  in 
the  humbler  walks  of  life  and  every  one  had 
suffered  directly  or  indirectly  from  the  influence 
of  alcohol.  The  resolve  made  at  the  grave 
of  their  murdered  friend  was  strictly  kept.  For 
the  sake  of  their  dead  benefactor  and  by  the 
blood  he  had  shed,  they  vowed  eternal  enmity  to 
the  poison.  This  vow  was  kept.  Not  only 
did  they  abstain  from  the  use  of  alcoholic  bever- 
ages themselves,  but  did  all  in  their  power  to 
overthrow  the  monster.  Theirs,  from  the  mo- 
ment the  earth  closed  over  William  Strasmore, 
became  an  aggressive  warfare.  For  months  and 
years  all  seemed  dark  and  discouraging.  Thick, 
heavy  clouds  obscured  the  temperance  horizon, 
and  the  feeble  voices  of  a  few  who  were  nobly 
battling  for  humanity  could  not  be  heard  amid 
the  shouts  of  the  exultant  liquor  men. 


THE   WORST   EOE.  3/9 

But  they  despaired  not.  Bill  Barnes,  as  we 
have  seen  in  a  former  chapter,  started  a  temper- 
ance reform  by  providing  cold  water  fountains 
in  the  cities  for  thirsty,  famishing  mortals.  Bill 
studied  law  and  was  admitted  to  practice. 
He  rose  rapidly  in  his  profession  and  from  a 
gutter-snipe  he  became  a  dignified  professional 
gentleman.  His  friend,  George  Greene,  became 
a  minister  of  the  gospel.  Henry  Jones,  too, 
arose  to  be  an  intelligent  and  useful  citizen,  pledg- 
ed to  a  deathless  war  on  the  drinking  usages  of 
Society.  These  three  friends,  under  that  strange 
providence  that  shapes  the  destinies  of  men,  be- 
came most  influential  workers  for  the  temperance 
cause  in  the  great  state  of  Iowa.  Thus,  William 
Strasmore,  though  dead,  yet  speaks  to  millions 
by  means  of  their  successful  efforts  through  the 
press  and  on  pulpit  and  platform. 

Each  became  an  orator,  for  his  heart  was  in 
the  work.  Judge  Elshea,  who  had  for  years 
been  playing  hot  and  cold  on  the  subject  of 
temperance,  at  one  time  taking  one  side  and 
next  day  an  opposite  view,  was  not  slow  to 
denounce  them  as  fanatics,  and  declare  pro- 
hibition impracticable.  Bill  Barnes,  who  was 
forced  to  practice  before  the  judge,  was  snubbed 
by  his  honor  for  his  temperance  proclivities,  and 
the  court,  when  off  the  bench,  took  care  to 
declare,  when  opportunity  offered  itself,  that 
Mr.  Barnes  was  a  fool  and  unworthy  the  confi- 


380  THE   WORST   FOE. 

dence  of  any  man  having  causes  to  litigate. 
Though  he  temporarily  injured  Barnes,  it  was 
the  upbuilding  of  him  in  the  end.  Judge  Elshea 
and  his  friends,  in  their  zeal  to  punish  Barnes, 
went  so  far  as  to  make  him  popular  by  their 
persecutions. 

"William,"  said  George  Greene  to  Mr.  Barnes 
one  day  when  they  were  together  in  the  latter' s 
office,  "what  can  be  done  in  the  way  of  putting 
an  end  to  this  unholy  liquor  traffic." 

"There  is  to  be  an  election  of  members  of  the 
State  Legislature  this  fall,  is  there  not  ?"  said  Mr. 
Barnes. 

"Yes." 

'  'Then,  let  us  make  Prohibition  our  battle  cry 
and  begin  the  fight  to  win." 

"What  shall  we  do?" 

"Elect  Prohibition  members  to  the  legislature 
and  force  a  vote  to  the  submission  of  the  ques- 
tion." 

'"The  idea  is  a  good  one." 

'  'Remember  Strasmore,  George,  and  our  vow 
at  his  grave.  Let  it  nerve  us  for  the  conflict  and 
we  will  be  sure  to  win. " 

"Whom  will  we  nominate  from  this  county?" 

"One  of  our  own  little  band,  who  twelve  years 
ago  stood  about  the  grave  of  Strasmore  and 
promised  Heaven  never  to  forget  his  death, — 
I  mean  Henry  Jones." 

"A  capital  idea.     But  even  if  we  carry  thir 


THE   WORST   FOE,  381 

county,  it  will  only  be  a  drop  in  a  bucket  com- 
pared to  the  great  State." 

"We  will  carry  the  State.  Each  of  us  must 
turn  orator  and  sweep  the  country  over.  You 
and  I  will  stump  the  State,  and  let  Henry  take 
care  of  his  own  county." 

The  campaign  that  followed  is  a  matter  of 
history.  Not  only  Iowa,  but  other  States  gave 
their  attention  to  its  progress.  Wherever  they 
went,  those  two  orators  drew  thousands  of 
hearers  and  followers.  The  liquor  men  cursed 
them,  and  tried  to  refute  their  arguments,  but 
it  was  all  in  vain.  They  were  overwhelmed  by 
the  band  of  William  Strasmore  and  the  scores 
of  others  who  joined  them.  They  called  other 
friends,  who  had  belonged  to  their  boy  organ- 
ization to  help  them,  and  soon  they  became 
known  far  and  near  as  the  "Strasmore  Legion. " 
The  cause  of  Prohibition  grew  so  rapidly  that 
the  liquor  men  for  once  were  cowed,  and  the 
temperance  movement  triumphed  in  the  State. 
The  liquor  men  now  sought  by  cunning  to  gain 
what  they  had  lost  at  the  ballot.  Judges  Elshea, 
and  Wiley,  and  Walcutt,  and  others  of  their 
kind,  who  tried  to  play  at  temperance,  were  con- 
sulted by  the  liquor  men.  They  shook  their 
heads  knowingly  and  declared  that  the  whole 
thing  was  unconstitutional,  and  Allen  O'Dema- 
gogue  joined  loudly  in  the  cry.  The  first  test 
case  was  before  the  honorable  Judge  Elshea,and 


382  THE   WORST    FOE. 

he,  elevating  his  feet  to  the  desk  in  front  of  him, 
clasped  his  hands  behind  his  head,  and  listened 
long  and  attentively  to  the  argument  on  the  con- 
stitutionality of  the  liquor  law,  by  the  whiskey 
attorney.  Though  the  Judge  had  made  up  his 
mind  before  the  case  was  argued,  he  tried  to 
appear  very  impartial,  with  a  strong  desire  to 
help  the  Prohibitionists  if  he  could.  There 
were  a  few  Prohibition  votes  which  he  might 
want  to  re-elect  him.  Judge  Elshea  had  always 
occupied  such  a  high  position  in  society  that  no 
one  had  ever  yet  dared  to  attack  him  openly. 
So  adroitly  had  his  honor  managed  affairs  that 
he  was  thought  by  some  to  really  sympathize 
with  Prohibition.  Yet,  when  the  case  was 
argued,  he  declared  the  precedents  so  strong, 
that  he  must  decide  the  law  unconstitutional. 
The  case  was  appealed  to  the  Supreme  Court, 
and  there  the  decision  was  affirmed. 

"Well,  what  shall  we  do  now,"  asked  Rev. 
George  Greene.  "It  would  seem  that  we 
have  had  our  work  for  nothing." 

"No,  we  have  not,"  Bill  Barnes  answered, 
"we  have  only  taken  one  step.  Perhaps  the 
other  step  should  have  been  taken  first.  Now 
we  must  set  to  work  to  elect  Prohibition  judges. " 

"A  good  idea." 

It  was  only  a  year  until  the  next  election.  Judge 
Elshea  was  a  candidate  for  re-election,  and  he 
soon  found  that  many  of  his  temperance  frie*ds 


THE   WORST    FOE.  38$ 

were  about  to  desert  him.  In  vain  he  strove  to 
show  them  that  he  was  forced  to  make  his  ruling 
according  to  law.  They  began  to  understand 
the  Judge  and  his  law. 

The  name  of  William  Barnes  was  proposed  in 
the  convention  held  by  the  Prohibitionists,  as  a 
candidate  for  Judge  of  the  Circuit.  The  name 
was  received  with  thunders  of  applause,  and  the 
nomination  made  unanimous.  Judge  Elshea 
was  at  first  inclined  to  treat  his  opponent  with 
contempt,  but  ere  long  he  learned  that  he  was 
no  mean  antagonist.  Taking  the  stump,  he 
denounced  the  judge  so  boldly  and  openly  that 
some  of  Mr.  Barnes'  friends  trembled  for  his 
safety.  Such  courage  had  never  been  exhibited 
before,  and  all  were  astonished  and  appalled. 
The  result  of  the  election  was  that  William 
Barnes  was  elected  to  fill  the  place  Judge  Elshea 
had  disgraced.  With  Henry  Jones  in  the  legis- 
lature, Bill  Barnes  on  the  bench,  and  George 
Greene  in  the  pulpit,  who  can  say  that  William 
Strasmore's  work  was  not  bearing  fruit. 

Not  only  did  the  temperance  people  elect 
Prohibition  judges  for  the  lower  courts,  but  even 
the  Supreme  Court  was  made  up  of  Prohibition 
members.  Almost  the  first  case  which  came 
before  Judge  Barnes  was  a  liquor  case.  The  old 
ruse  of  non-constitutionality  of  the  law  was 
raised.  The  court  room  was  crowded  and  the 
scene  became  thrilling.  Liquor  men  with 


384  THE   WORST   FOE. 

haggard  faces,  and  temperance  men  with  anxious 
looks,  were  elbowing  each  other,  watching  the 
countenance  of  the  young  Judge.  His  features 
were  immovable  as  his  purpose,  and  he  gave  his 
opinion  in  a  clear,  distinct  voice.  Whiskey  men 
retired  muttering  curses — low,  but  deep,  and  the 
better  class  of  citizens  secretly  rejoiced.  Rev. 
Mr.  Greene  went  home,  retired  to  his  closet,  and 
•offered  up  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving. 

The  liquor  men  had  one  hope  left,  and  that 
was  chat  they  might  appeal  the  case  to  the 
Supreme  Court,  and  have  it  reversed,  but  the 
Supreme  Court  was  changed,  and  not  so  '' 'techni- 
cal"  as  the  former  court.  Judge  Barnes'  opinion 
was  re-affirmed,  and  the  whiskey  men  gnashed 
their  teeth.  Slowly,  yet  surely,  the  cause  of  Pro- 
hibition had  gained  ground.  The  old  era  is 
passing  away,  and  on  the  dawn  of  a  new  century, 
great  things  may  be  expected. 

And  now,  dear  reader,  I  must  bid  you  fare- 
well. Think  not  that  I  have  drawn  on  my  imag- 
ination for  the  facts  of  this  tale.  They  who 
suffered  and  are  gone,  once  lived  before  my  eyes. 
Pauline  and  George,  Mark  and  Lillie,  Maria  and 
baby  Pauline,  and  the  deeply  wronged  Deena, 
are  happy  now  in  their  security  from  the  clutches 
of  "The  Worst  Foe,"  who,  like  the  devil-fish, 
blackens  all  waters  to  escape  with  his  prey.  The 
Strasmore  Legion  still  bears  on  the  banners  of 
prohibition.  But  the  years  are  coming  rapidly, 


THE    WORST    FOE.  385 

when  through  struggle  the  victory  shall  dawn, 
and  the  grander  Banner  of  the  Prince  of  Peace 
float  over  every  land.  Yet  ere  that  time,  the 
separate  rivers  of  our  lives  may  have  glided  on 
and  on,  and  their  tiny  ripple  on  stormy  roar  be 
lost  in  that  silent  ocean  that  rolls  around  all  the 
world. 


il\iifkor«5. 


(i)\)Q    undersianed    make  a   ©PEGIALTY 

•  4 

of  manufacturing  books  for  WUTH0RS. 
(1)1}  is  gives  tl?e  author  all  ~\\)e  profits  t[?ere 

r  I 

may  be  in  it,  instead  of  tf?e  mere  pittance 
of  a  royalty,  olutbors  will  do  well  to  com- 
municate witb  us. 

•   \v.  G.  ^JifelB^i)  &  G;O., 

AUTHOR'S  PUBLISHERS, 

COLUMBUS,  OHIO. 


A     000  086  266     4 


